Seeking Malfoy
by PonderingPotter
Summary: Harry is called to Hogwarts to deal with his son after a fight with Draco Malfoys son, and he is about to be seeing a lot more of them. Features a lot of quidditch and a series of events that leads two old rivals to come together as friends, and maybe more, if their sons have anything to say about it. (Undergoing major revisions)
1. Chapter 1

It was a hot day, burning near 102 degrees, and Harry was feeling relieved to have been born with magic as he set a cooling charm over the sitting room in Grimmuald place. He had thrown open the windows at six that morning, the air in the house had gone so stifling and thick. The glass had fogged, and every cooling charm he set about the house seemed to be wearing off faster than he could replace it. He wondered if it was the house; Hermione had told him once that magic sometimes had trouble sticking to places that had been touched with dark spells, and he definitely felt a malicious curl to the air when he walked through sometimes. His pajama shirt was damp with sweat, and he pressed a cold bottle of butterbeer against his neck to chase out the flush that was rising in his skin.

He was made so lethargic from the sweltering heat in his sitting room that he was almost lulled to sleep by it, but the muffled roar of the floo startled him awake, and he stared at the flames in his fireplace with dread. The room already felt five degrees hotter, and even seeing Ginny flickering in front of him wasn't enough to make up for it. She wasn't bothered by his lack of a smile, and she looked him over slowly before asking, her voice sounding far away, "I tried the fireplace at home first, and you didn't answer, so I figured you'd be here. I hope you've opened the windows, I heard on the radio it was absolutely scorching over there."

"Mmm." Harry said, because his tongue felt too thick and heavy to say anything else. He moved the bottle a fraction higher on his neck so that it touched the underside of his jaw, and he felt his stubble moisten as the condensation sank against it.

Ginnys smile faded slowly, and Harry saw her hand move in the flames to push her hair out of her eyes. He sat up, recognizing the nervous way she swiped her bangs aside. She didn't seem to want to look at him, and he waited a moment, feeling his body beginning to wake up fully, before she said with a sigh, "I've just got a letter from McGonagall."

"Don't tell me the boys have already gotten themselves expelled? They've only been in school a month." Harry said, and was rewarded with a soft upturn of her lips as she glanced at him again.

"Just be happy it's not about James this time—she said he's excelling at Transfiguration, and he's been helping some of the younger years get the hang of it as well." She informed him, and Harry felt his chest swell with pride, until her smile disappeared and she sighed, "It's Albus that's gotten into trouble. It's odd, but she said he's been getting into fights with another student."

"Is he at least winning them?" Harry asked, and she looked sharply at him again, so he put his hands up in surrender and said, "Sorry, that was bad taste. I'm sure it's nothing we can't work out. I'll write him to see what's going on and—why are you shaking your head?"

"McGonagall asked to see us. Apparently, she wants to discuss the issue with us in person."

"Should I step back? Are you coming through the fireplace?"

"Well, no, see, I can't leave. I'm training our new reserve Keeper. I know technically it's my month, if they weren't in school, but…"

Her eyes traveled hopefully up his face, and Harry couldn't help but sigh, dreading what he was about to do, "I'll go talk to her, then. You stay in Romania, I'll update you when it's all sorted."

"Thanks, Harry." Ginny said in relief, "She expects one of us in her office in half an hour, shes opened up the fireplace so you can floo right in. I'll return the favor, I swear! Ah—that's the team manager yelling for us, I've got to go. Tell Albus I miss him!"

"I will. Bye, Gin." Harry said, though he wasn't sure she heard him, having dusked out of the fireplace so quickly. Now he was just left staring at a pile of embers, heat waves visibly rising off them. Well, at least he didn't have a reason to stay in the overheated house any longer. He moved upstairs quickly, deciding it would be best to take a quick, cold shower before he popped into McGonagall's office.

He took ten minutes to figure out whether it was appropriate to meet his old head of house in a pair of jeans and a jumper, and for a moment he missed being married to Ginny if only because at least then he could ask her what to wear—not that she really knew either, but having someone at least tell him he didn't look a complete idiot always had its benefits. He scribbled a quick letter to Molly Weasley to tell her that he would probably be late to pick Lily Luna up from the burrow, and then grabbed a handful of floo powder and felt the floor give way as he was sent through the floo network. He was rather proud that he didn't trip out of the fireplace as he was deposited in McGonagalls office, as he hadn't flooed anywhere in ages. He remembered that she had added a rug on the hearth from his last visit there, where his arrival had been less than graceful.

He was so relieved to have not made an idiot of himself that he almost forgot why he was there, and looked up to find his son sitting in a chair that was much too large for him in front of McGonagalls desk. He wasn't the only boy there; a blond boy sat beside him in a chair of the same size, and was, staring at the floor with his head bowed so that Harry couldn't see his face. He was a touch smaller than Albus, from what he could see of him, and the crest on his robe showed that he was a Hufflepuff. He was about to ask the boys name, but found that his breath suddenly caught in his throat. The boy glanced up and recognition was immediate; he was looking at a nearly exact copy of Draco Malfoy, save for the square jaw and soft blue eyes of the child, who was idly kicking his legs, expensive shoes sliding in and out of sight.

He took a moment to let the image soak in, and for a moment he almost convinced himself that Malfoy had somehow reversed his age, but shook the idea away quickly. He couldn't stop staring at the boy, and couldn't help wondering how much the boy took after his father, considering Albus was so much like Harry that they practically spoke in tandem half the time. Well, he couldn't be that similar to his father; he was a Hufflepuff, after all. The thought had him snickering quietly, though he had enough decency to pretend he was merely amused by something on McGonagalls desk.

"Something funny, Potter?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, feeling warm breath tickle his neck, and he whipped around, drawing his wand automatically in defense before he recognized that Draco Malfoy was standing behind him with a nasty smirk. He felt his face warm, and snapped, feeling foolish, "Merlin, Malfoy, warn a bloke before you sneak up on him like that!"

Malfoy merely raised a delicate eyebrow in response, and answered casually, his smug expression infuriating,, "I would have thought that, being an auror, you'd be better trained, Potter. Shall I tell your supervisor that your observational skills are just as abysmal as they were when we were in school?"

"I can observe plenty. For example, watch this," Harry said, and cleared his throat, stepping back and pretending to look Malfoy over. He made a show of pretending to study him, then nodded and said, "Ah, yes, just as I suspected. Based on the way you're standing, I dare say you have a stick stuck in your ass."

Albus giggled quietly in his seat, and Harry smirked. Malfoys cheeks went pink, and he opened his mouth to retort, but lost the opportunity when a voice sounded from the doorway, loud and demanding attention, "I do hope this is friendly banter, boys."

Harry didn't have to turn to know McGonagall had walked in on them, and he sheepishly backed away towards his son as she nodded at their silence and strode into the room, eyes just as hard as they had been when he was eleven. They never failed to make him want to obey her, and they seemed to have the same effect on Malfoy, who retreated to stand beside his son when she peered over her spectacles at him. Once they were settled, she leveled them both with a look, and wordlessly transfigured two seats out of paperweights, which Harry and Draco both moved to be beside their children, as far apart from one another as they could manage. Harry pretended he didn't notice her look of disapproval. She stared a moment longer, seemed to accept that he wasn't going to acknowledge the look she'd given him, and said instead to the two of them, "I think we rather need to discuss some behavioral issues between your sons, wouldn't you agree?"

"Potters son, you mean." Malfoy muttered defensively, and put a hand on his son's arm. Harry looked sharply up, ready to defend Albus, but McGonagall beat him to speaking.

"I will send you out of the room if you can't behave like an adult, Mister Malfoy."

Harry snorted into his chest before he could stop himself, and sharp eyes snapped towards him. He sat up quickly, aware he'd been caught, and made a show of coughing into his fist, hoping she would believe he had just had a fit and that it was coincidental. Her lips thinned, and she asked darkly, "Would you like a draught from Madame Pomphrey for that cough, Potter, or do you think you can get it under control?"

"I'm fine." Harry said quickly, aware he had been caught, "It was just a tickle in my throat."

"See that you keep it managed." She said, and then her eyes flicked, miraculously, it felt, towards Malfoy before she asked, "I hope the two of you can act your age for the rest of this meeting. Now, I'm not here to scold you, I'm here to discuss the problems with your children. You both know why you're here, do you not?"

"Err, no." Harry admitted, flushing a little when Malfoy rolled his eyes as if to say 'typical'. Harry had made a face at him before he could stop himself.

"Potter, what did I say?" McGonagall warned waspishly, her eyes cold and hard like steel. He sank in his seat, his lips pressed together so that he didn't do anything else that he shouldn't. "We are here because your boys can't seem to keep from fighting in the halls and during meal times, and it's so closely mirrored to your own bantering that I can't help wondering if past experiences are responsible."

"With all due respect, ma'am, Scorpius has sent me letters on three different occasions detailing the poor treatment that Potter's boy has subjected him to. It hardly seems fair to be disciplining my kid for this." Malfoy interjected arrogantly, pointed chin raised in the air defiantly. It looked so sharp Harry would bet ten galleons his wife cut herself on it every time she tried to kiss him.

"You would pick a pretentious name like that." He couldn't help scoffing.

"Hmm, and it seems we know where your kid gets it from. Bullying a child, Potter? And he thinks his kid is innocent! Clearly the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Harry bristled at that, cheeks going red as his hands curled into fists, and he defended quickly, ignoring that Malfoy had been right about Harry unwittingly making a remark about his son, "Look, regardless of what you think, there is no way my son is responsible for any of this." He knew he should stop, but he wasn't about to let Malfoy make it out like Harry was was the one at fault—or Albus for that matter—so he didn't dare look at McGonagall and added quickly, "If anything, your kid is the bully here; after all, like father, like son."

McGonagall sighed loudly and spoke over whatever Malfoy had opened his mouth to say with a stern, "Mister Potter, please refrain from picking another fight, or I will have to request you leave the office."

Harry closed his mouth and nodded, subdued by the fact that he had at least gotten the last word. Malfoy had him acting like a child again, but he couldn't deny, as much as he wanted to, that he had put himself in the position to be scolded, so he said impatiently, "It is Malfoy's son, though, right? He's the one starting all of this?"

There was silence.

Immediately, Harry felt his stomach clench. McGonagall was staring at him with such pity that it nearly wasn't a surprise when she said slowly, "From what I've seen, and from what I've heard from other professors, it seems that the antagonizing has been primarily from Albus."

"But Al wouldn't-"

Her voice was softer, sympathetic, even, when she leaned forward in her chair and said, "Mister Potter, I've had sixteen different incidents reported where your son has been accused of harassing Scorpius Malfoy. There are only four where Scorpius is said to be at blame."

"But-surely it's not so bad we needed to be brought in? I mean, Malfoy and I fought all the time in school, and we were never dragged to the office to talk to our parents."

Harry expected Malfoy to say something biting like 'That's because some of us didn't have parents, Potty', but the remark never came and he was resolved to listen to McGonagall instead say, "I wasn't Headmistress back then, and this goes beyond just a schoolboy rivalry."

"What's Albus done, then?" Harry asked, certain there was a mistake. Albus was not a bully. He didn't raise him that way.

McGonagall looked surprised by the question, and then said thoughtfully, studying Albus, who had sunk low in his seat, "Perhaps you should ask him, and see what sort of explanation he has for you."

Harry's breath caught. He didn't want to hear it from her, much less from his own kids mouth, least of all if it was true. But he relented, and asked slowly, praying for a misunderstanding, "Albus?"

He was hoping for some kind of protest, or for Albus to tell him that he wasn't guilty and that Malfoys kid was as sneaky and underhanded as Malfoy himself, but his son instead looked at his lap with a subdued, red-cheeked expression. Harrys stomach fell immediately in on itself, and there was a long moment of silence before Albus mumbled reluctantly, "Uncle Ron said that we should beat him in our classes, but he's such a know-it-all that it's hard, and he's really annoying about it. He won't stop correcting me in potions, and he keeps rubbing it in that he's doing better than me in defense against the dark arts, so I guess I've hexed him a few times. Nothing permanent, though."

"That's not all, Mister Potter." McGonagall cut across sternly. "Why don't you tell your father what happened just this afternoon, then? There is more to this than just fighting over grades."

Albus thinned his lips and shook his head embarrassedly in answer to her request, and Harry felt so nauseous that the edges of his vision swam. Albus sent a nervous look towards the blond pair on their left. McGonagall nodded when he didn't say anything for several minutes, and finally elected to pick up the slack, her voice crisp as parchment, "Very well, then. Albus seems to be under the impression that it is okay to taunt Scorpius for being sorted into Hufflepuff, which, I can assure you, is the opposite of something to be ashamed of. He and his friends have taken to following Mister Malfoy between classes to harass him about the sorting hats decision, and to prod at sore subjects, like his fathers alleged past as a death eater. He-"

"It's not alleged! His father WAS a death eater." Harry huffed before he realized he had spoken, furious that Malfoy was suddenly being painted as innocent.

"I was pardoned, Potter." Malfoy sneered with narrowed eyes, which only drove Harry's anger to a new high.

"Thanks to me you were!"

"Oh, of course you would believe that! I wasn't charged because I didn't join them willingly-it had nothing to do with your 'selfless' testimony you gigantic prick!"

"What would you know about pricks, Malfoy? You've barely even got one!" Harry screamed across the room, feeling his face burn in anger.

"Oh, that's mature, Potter, hope you didn't strain your only brain cell to think up that one."

McGonagall cleared her throat, and then sat in silence as they both remembered themselves and sat back down in embarrassment. Harry didn't remembered standing up out of his chair at all. They both met her eyes apologetically and she asked waspishly, "Are you quite finished?"

They sulkily lapsed into silence. Her eyes narrowed and there wasn't a sound for several long minutes aside from the ticking of the miniature clock on her desk and she said, her voice lowering again, shaking in anger, "Mister Malfoy was not a death eater by choice, and, even if he had been, it has no business being used as a reason to target his son. You understand that, don't you, Potter?"

Harry wasn't sure which one of them she was talking to, and apparently Albus didn't either, because they both reluctantly nodded. Harry knew she was right—had known it even before he had started arguing with Malfoy—and didn't want to see the disappointment in hr eyes, so instead he chanced a look at Malfoy, only to find that he was fuming beside his son, refusing to face them. McGonagall then said, with a strange look toward Scorpius, her expression uncomfortable, "There has also been an issue regarding the sexuality of Mister Malfoy, and Albus's exploitation of that."

"Malfoys son is gay?" Harry asked with wide eyes, and didn't mean to be so surprised, it was just that he couldn't help wondering how Draco was taking it.

"No, she is saying that I'm gay, and your son won't quit throwing it in my kids face." Draco snorted derisively, before Harry could complete the mental scenario he had been drafting in his head.

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm only asking because -" Harry realized very suddenly that he was serious and said in a way that was much more skeptical than he meant it to be, "You're bent?"

Draco groaned and tipped his head towards the ceiling in answer, and Scorpius stifled a laugh into his hand when Harry looked around in confusion, wondering when their conversation had taken such a turn.

"But you're married to a girl!" He insisted in confusion. Malfoy almost seemed to wince.

"I'm widowed, Potter." Malfoy said patiently, and Harry pretended not to notice the practiced dry tone in his voice, or the way Scorpius immediately grabbed his hand, has face morphing from amusement to concern. Draco waved him off and passed a gentle smile in his direction that seemed to set the boy at least partially at ease.

The silence felt painful this time.

"I didn't know that. I'm sorry, Malfoy." Harry said when the mood passed, and he was surprised that he said it so sincerely. He knew that Astoria and Draco had been close; he had seen them together in the paper when they first married, and again when they had their son. She was the only person that Harry had ever seen make Malfoy smile like that.

"She was a good girl." McGonagall said gently, with a meaningful look, and Draco nodded with a stiff swallow as she continued, "It seems you two can be civil. It's a shame we have to talk about death in order to achieve it. Now, since we all know the peace won't last long, I think you need to each take your sons aside and speak to them, privately, to try and resolve whatever conflict it is that they have, and I will see what you come up with for a punishment."

"We're deciding their punishments?" Harry asked in surprise, once again caught off guard.

"They will have detentions, of course, but I think it would be wise if they understood why, and a parent often does a better job at rearing understanding than a proffessor does. I would like you to determine the length the detentions should go on, and I will decide if it seems reasonable. Now, I will come back in ten minutes, and I expect you to have all apologized to one another by then."

"All of us?" Albus asked in surprise, and Harry was surprised he spoke. He sensed a set-up.

McGonagall smirked as she turned around, and said purposefully, "Children follow their parents examples. I want your fathers to set a good one, so, yes, they will apologize to one another as well."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and Malfoy stood frozen for several seconds when the door finally banged shut, and their sons fidgeted in their seats until Harry sighed and dropped a hand on Albus's shoulder, shepherding him out of his seat and to the opposite end of the room to talk with him. Malfoy followed his example, and Harry tried to block out the other mans presence as he knelt in front of Albus, trying to decide what he should say. He had never been in a situation like this before; never thought he would be. Had Harry's stories about Malfoy really affected his son enough to turn him into a bully? Thinking back on everything he had told him, shame sank into his gut, and he realized that, yes, he probably had painted a terrible picture of the Malfoy family for Albus, and was probably more than a little bit to blame for his sons behavior.

Finally, he found his words, and asked gently, clearing his throat, "Do you know why Malfoy was so terrible to me and your Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione when we were kids?"

"No." Albus admitted slowly, his forehead wrinkled in confusion as his eyebrows pinched together. Harry had a feeling he was expecting a lecture about his behavior, and a smile twitched on his lips at his sons expression. _Yes, he looked exactly how Harry did when he was confused._

"It was because his parents raised him to believe other people were beneath him, and to hate people for that reason. I think I may have accidentally given you the impression that Scorpius Malfoy is like his father was at this age, but he isn't. I don't want to raise you to treat anybody like that. Malfoy isn't so bad now, really, and if his son is anything like him, than I'm sure he's a great kid-even if he IS a Hufflepuff." Harry said, with wink when understanding crossed the boys features.

"I guess." Albus muttered, looking at his feet, "But he's still a know-it-all."

"So is Aunt Hermione, but you like her." Harry smiled a little, reaching out to ruffle his sons hair. "you don't have to like him, but You do need to apologize to Scorpius, and to Mister Malfoy."

"His dad too?"

"You used information about him to hurt his son; I think that very much deserves an apology. Bullying somebody else is never okay, even if you think it's for the right reasons," Harry nodded sternly, without room for question, "and I think a months detention ought to help that lesson to sink in."

"A whole month?! but dad-"

"You taunted Malfoy for longer than that, I think it's reasonable, unless you want it to be longer?" Harry asked knowingly, raising his eyebrows in challenge. He didn't want their kids to become versions of what they themselves had been as children. He didn't want to put his experiences on them.

"No, a month is fine." Albus grumbled disappointedly, and looked across the room at the two Malfoys. Harry looked over too and sat back on his heels to watch Malfoy talking to Scorpius, bent down to his level and speaking earnestly.

He pretended not to listen in, making a point of crossing his arms and watching the toe of his shoe circle over a divot in the tile floor, but his ears pricked at hearing Draco Malfoy say, "Don't let anybody tell you that you don't belong in Hufflepuff, Scorp. Professor Longbottom even says that you practically bleed your house colors. You're a _great_ Hufflepuff, and I'm glad the sorting hat didn't put you into Slytherin like it did me. It wanted me to go to Ravenclaw, did you know? I argued my way out of that, though. Should have let it do what it wanted, now that I know how good I look in blue."

Scorpius snorted a little, rolling his eyes, and Draco grinned, his face relaxing a fraction at being able to put his son at ease. He glanced at Harry, who flushed at meeting his eye, but then the blond had turned back to his son and was saying, "And about me being a death eater, I know I made some bad decisions in my youth, but I stand behind the one I made to protect my family, because it got me you, and your mother, and that will _always_ make it worth it. Come on, now, Potter has probably lectured his son into a daze about good Gryffindor morals and ethics. We should intervene before before he starts off on a rant about Albus's namesake."

Harry was struck by that idea, and internally wondered why he hadn't thought of that himself, as nobody could help him make a point more than Dumbledore. He nearly opened his mouth to comment on that, ready to tell Albus all about how Dumbledore would have expected unity between the boys, but he flushed when Malfoy met his eye again, and realized that the blond had been making fun of him, in some way.

They marched their boys to the center of the room to apologize, watched them reluctantly shake hands (which took Harry back to when he had rejected Draco's in their first year) and mutter their apologies, and then stood blinking stupidly at each other as their sons shifted uncomfortably. Harry as determined to make the first move, and had just talked himself into doing it when Malfoy stuck his hand out and said with a remarkably pink face, "Err, sorry I was a prat when we were in school."

"I'm sorry you were a prat too." Harry said before he could help himself, and Malfoy nearly snatched his hand back when Harry seized it quickly in his own, amending hurriedly, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm, uh, sorry I wasn't able to help you like I did everyone else."

"You're such a Gryffindor, Potter." Malfoy groaned, but they shook hands anyways,

and told McGonagall their decisions for the length of their sons detentions when she returned. Scorpius got saddled with two weeks, which seemed unfair to Harry until McGonagall pointed out that he _had_ started a few minor fights of his own. Harry and Malfoy stood a little awkwardly in front of the floo when they made to leave, after hugging their sons goodbye, and Harry was almost ready to believe Malfoy had changed, but the blond elbowed him in the ribs to get into the floo first, and Harry heard him say, just as he disappeared, "See you next year, when my son is going to cream yours in quidditch."

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted at the empty fire place, struggling to tell if the blond had been serious or not. He was so distracted by the quick little barb that this time he _did_ trip when he came out of the fireplace in Grimmuald Place, and cursed Malfoy in his head as soot sprayed the matted carpet. He couldn't deny, though, that it was nice to have a bit of a competitive edge between them again, even if Malfoy _had_ been kidding-which Harry still wasn't sure he had been-and he found himself looking forward to seeing the blond at quidditch games. _He could handle this. He could handle seeing Malfoy a few times a year to banter._

 _XXXXXXXXX_

 **Authors Note:** This chapter is really short too, sorry for that, it's just to establish the general relationship between characters before we really start getting into this story. I'm really excited for this one, and I hope you guys are too! Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing, keep up the nice comments and please keep enjoying my work, you guys are making this a lot of fun for me!


	3. Chapter 3

Harry saw Malfoy a few more times in the weeks following the incident, and found that they were still tense in one another's presence, and never said a word to one another that wasn't practiced and polite, often commenting on mundane things like the weather and the price of school books going up. Harry had managed to gather from Albus's letters that he and Scorpius had managed to form a tentative friendship, but it wasn't enough to make him stop Malfoy and say hello, unable to shake the feeling that they would fall back into their school habits and end up with fists curled and wands drawn.

Harry figured that he was alright with the Malfoys, since he certainly didn't hate them, and he wasn't able to keep the smile off his face when Ron told him in agony during a lunch break at the ministry, "Rose is friends with bloody Malfoy, of all people! 'Mione says it's great, of course, but even _I_ know she doesn't _trust_ him! I thought we had raised them right, telling them to keep away from the ferret and his son. Bloody Slytherins."

Ginny had gotten a week off quidditch training to nurse a shoulder injury, and had met them for lunch, but had rolled her eyes and gotten up to grab a coffee when Ron started in about Malfoy. Harry was fine with that, as she had been strangely defensive about the friendship their kids had with Scorpius, and didn't want to listen to her arguing with Ron over it. Harry shrugged, watching his ex chat up the man behind the counter, then shrugged and told Ron, "He's not a bad kid, really. And Scorpius was sorted into Hufflepuff, not Slytherin."

" _Hufflepuff!_?" Rons eyes bulged, and Harry hid a smile as he tipped his drink up towards his mouth. He had anticipated that reaction, and still found it amusing himself when he thought about it. He was trying to restrain himself though, in case Albus or his other kids would pick up on his attitude and go back to making an enemy of the Malfoy boy. Ron was immediately laughing, though, and snorted, "Merlin, I bet Malfoy had a fit when he found out! That's good old fashioned karma, that is!"

"He didn't seem to mind, really, any of the times I've seen him." Harry admitted thoughtfully, and he wondered if Malfoy ever did. It wasn't fun to imagine Malfoy being blasé about it, though, and he decided that if he had to think about it, he would let the version of Malfoy in his head be horrified.

"Still talking about Malfoy?" Ginny asked as she sat down between them again, and slid a greasy plate of fries towards the center of the table.

"Ron's obsessed with him, Gin." Harry grinned, "He's like me back in sixth year."

"Ha bloody ha." Ron rolled his eyes, "You told him that Albus is going to destroy his kid when it comes to important things like quidditch, didn't you? 'Mione told me that you saw him at Hogwarts when you went up to see Albus earlier this year. Was he a git like normal?"

"A complete git." Harry grinned, shaking his head fondly, "And I'm sure he is completely aware of the amazing Quidditch genes my son has got. With me and Ginny for parents, Malfoy's son doesn't stand a chance."

"I don't like the bashing on him, I hope you know." Ginny told them with a shake of her head and a chuckle, "But Albus is going to kick that pureblood snot's kid into the dirt come Quidditch season next year."

"Hear, hear!"Harry and Ron grinned, and cracked the rims of their coffee cups together in some form of a toast.

"Draco Malfoy won't know what hit him!"

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Harry, Ron and Ginny spent extra time training their kids for Quidditch that summer, as Hermione watched from the window of the burrow, shaking her head in disapproval every time Ron tried to sneak in a lesson about how to play dirty without getting caught. It turned out that Rose shone on the field more than the others, but she insisted that she didn't have an interest inn playing for the school, so the adults put their attention back on Albus, who was a slightly less talented seeker than Harry had been. That was alright, though, since Albus seemed to have a very different technique than Harry did, and a completely different set of skills.

When Harry and Ginny apparated in front of the Hogs Head on the first game day, Ron and Hermione were already inside, and nervous excitement was buzzing in Harry's stomach. He couldn't help wondering if his own parents would have felt this way if they had been alive to go to his games, and the knot in his gut tightened just slightly at the thought. He didn't get the chance to dwell on it too long, though, because he and Ginny were already pushing through the crowd to get to Ron and Hermione's table.

"Your son is playing Malfoy's today, isn't he, then?"

"Yupp. Both made seeker, if you can believe it." Ginny sighed, plopping down next to Hermione and waving at the bartender to signal that she wanted a butterbeer.

"Well, if history is repeating itself, then it's no question who is about to win." Ron snorted happily, then he asked Harry with a small smile, as if he expected him to know, "Any clue what Mafloy's been up to lately? He's stayed out of the paper for a good while now."

"Nah, no news." Harry shook his head with a grin, refusing to admit that he had been checking lately. "Last I heard he was over in Bulgaria chatting with Viktor Krum, but thats just a rumor I heard from Robbards on the lift."

"Hm, no, they dated for a few months back in the summer." Hermione said, without looking up from her book. She was working as an assistant to the minister, and had just been promoted-to what, Harry didn't quite know- and she was trying to keep up with the new laws he wanted to draft, reading up on changes and and researching their validity. Harry didn't envy her in the least. She said distractedly, "Viktor sent an owl the other week and he mentioned it, but they aren't together anymore."

"You still get owls from Krum?" Harry asked skeptically, expecting Ron to be mad.

"He taught at Rosie's training camp before school started up again, and we've kept in touch. He's got a little girl of his own now, I think he said, but the mother isn't in the picture." Hermione informed him, and reluctantly closed her book, looking very pained to do so. Ron cast a charm to shrink it down, and she slid it into her bag, her eyes refocussing as she looked around the table.

"Hmm." Harry nodded, then looked down at hs watch and cursed, saying, "Is that the time? We'd better go, or we won't get any seats to watch the kids duke it out."

They made their way up towards the castle with a pace that was only a bit faster than walking, and made it to the line with a small sea of parents that were chatting excitedly, queuing to get into the pitch. It was difficult to stay together as the line grew, and became more of a crowd, and Hermione kept yelling over his head to Ron, "Did you bring your Gryffindor scarf? Did you ever send Albus that broom maintenance book that he left at the burrow?"

Harry noticed a bit belatedly that Malfoy had been jostled around in the line to end up behind them, and was thrown off guard when he realized that the man was sporting Hufflepuff face paint on his cheekbones like a football player, and was wearing a grey and yellow scarf, his cheeks a little red with the cold. Harry didn't say anything for a while, for some reason hoping that Malfoy wouldn't notice them, or maybe that he would, as he hadn't decided whether he wanted to talk to him or not. He had a feeling Malfoy knew he was there anyways, and the idea was confirmed when Draco leaned forward and says into his ear, breath hot on Harry's neck, "Ready to watch Gryffindor get creamed by a bunch of badgers?"

"Not likely, ferret face!" Harry snorted, surprised at how easy it was to banter with Malfoy. It was as close to casual as they had been, and they stood in companionable silence as they made their way up in the line. Harry's group had somehow gotten ahead of him, but Hermione signaled that they would save him a seat and Harry nodded his thanks.

McGonagall met them at the entrance, and rose her eyebrows, warning, "I hope you two plan on behaving yourselves this time."

They both flushed a little and assured her that they'd be on their best behavior as they ducked into the pitch, separating once they got to the stair. Harry found his friends after his second time circling the Gryffindor side of the stands, and settled down beside Ron, who had managed to sneak in a handful of chocolate frogs and was splitting them up between the four of them. He saw Malfoy across the pitch with Pansy Parkinson, who he was hugging hello as he admired her Hufflepuff scarf. They didn't see Harry though, and he looked onto the pitch to cheer wildly as the Gryffindor team marched out into the grass.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said as they got into position, her eyes going wide as her hands curled around his arm worriedly, "He looks so small playing with those older kids. Maybe we shouldn't have told him to do this, he'll be an easy target for how small he is!"

"Oi!" Ron huffed from beside Harry, leaning around him to stare at his sister in horror, "We didn't spend a whole summer training him just to let his mummy pull him out of the game, did we?"

"Albus will be fine, Gin." Hermione said, with a much more sympathetic tone than Ron had, "Besides, look at little Scorpius Malfoy; they are pretty much matched for size. They'll do fine."

Harry nodded as well in encouragement, but he was just as put off as his ex-wife by how small Albus looked on the field, and he wasn't sure he would stop her if she _did_ decide to drag him kicking and screaming off of the field. _Quidditch was dangerous. What if he got hurt?_

They started into the air, and Harry realized it was too late to do anything to stop his son playing, so he looked across the pitch at Malfoy instead, wondering if the blond was as nervous as he was. He didn't seem to be too concerned, his eyes locked on Scorpius, who was circling the pitch in search of the snitch, but he did see Malfoy jump out of his seat in alarm when Scorpius was nearly hit by a bludger. His hands were shaking when he sat back down, and Harry almost felt better about worrying so much when he heard Ginny shout, and the same bludger that had missed Malfoy's son struck Albus's elbow, knocking his hand away from the snitch Harry hadn't realized he'd been after.

"I'm fine!" Albus shouted, and refused to be pulled from the game, flexing his arm experimentally and then angling back up into the sky, Scorpius Malfoy on his tail. Ginny was gripping his arm so tight that his fingers were numb, but he didn't look away from his son again, completely aware of how close a call he had just had.

He tried to focus on the game after that, but worried every time Albus seemed to be favoring his uninjured arm. Gryffindor maintained a strong lead, and he was prideful of that, but it wasn't long before Hufflepuff managed to tie the score. Draco met his eye and immediately the tension was back. Harry was determined to see Albus win, and threw himself into supporting him, as Draco did the same on the other side, screaming abuse at the ref at nearly every call. Harry saw McGonagall hear one of his more colorful swears, and nearly laughed when she put her face into her hands to groan.

He was able to get completely back into the competitive spirit when the two seekers were racing through the air, whistling past after the snitch. He was sure he had never been more excited in his life, screaming at the top of his lungs, with both sides of the stands on their feet, shouting and cheering. He was so exhilarated that he forgot to be disappointed when Scorpius shot ahead of Albus and closed his fist around the snitch, and Hufflepuff's side of the pitch went wild. Malfoy looked so proud Harry thought he might cry with joy, cheering and jumping and spinning Pansy around excitedly in his arms, not caring who looked at him funny-and people _were_ looking at them funny. McGonagall was craning her neck from the teachers box to chuckle at him.

The people in the stands took their time leaving, chattering on about the game, and about how close it had been. A girl that looked mysteriously like Katie Bell slipped past him as he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny worked their way down the stairs, and Harry felt very much like he did when he was a kid leaving Quidditch games, full of adrenaline and excitement. Ron said determinedly to Ginny, "He'll get it next time, I'm sure. He was a hair away, I thought for sure he would manage to grab it first."

Harry and Ginny met Albus just outside the change rooms as he came off the field carrying his broom, and Harry suddenly remembered his arm injury, asking urgently, "You had it looked at, didn't you? You were cleared to walk around?"

"Relax, dad," Albus snorted, pushing HArry away when he tried to pry albus's arm closer to himself to inspect for an injury, "It barely grazed me, I'm fine. You'll never believe it, though-"

"You had it checked, didn't you?" Ginny interrupted anxiously, "Quidditch injuries can be really serious if you don't get them looked at, and-"

"Madame Hooch said I was okay, but you've got to hear this!" Albus insisted, practically jumping in his excitement, "You'll never believe it dad, I swear!"

"Alright, alright." Harry chuckled, forcing himself to relax. "Is this about the game?"

"It's about Scorpius's dad!" Albus beamed, and didn't notice when Ron groaned, too caught up with his own news, "You'll never _believe_ what Mister Malfoy is going to do! Uncle Ron, you were totally wrong about him; he's _got_ to be the coolest dad there is, you'll _never_ believe this!"

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 **Authors Note:** Can anybody guess what Draco is going to do in the next chapter? This is sort of a mini cliff-hanger, but I want to see what you guys think is about to happen. I'm looking forward to seeing what people think about this story, and I wanted to know how many of you are actually reading both of the stories I'm doing? That seems really mental to me, having people read multiple works of mine, so please let me know if you're a fan or not of both! Thank you so much guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Albus had to tell them four times before they were able to pull together and grasp what he was trying to tell them, and even then, Harry had to stuff a finger in his ear to try and clear it so that he could repeat through his shock, "Malfoy is doing _what?"_

"I told you already!" Albus snorted, his face lighting up, "He and Scorpius made a deal, so he's getting a tattoo on his bum!"

 _So he_ had _heard Albus correctly._ Hermione's lips twitched with what almost looked like a smile, and she asked, "Why on earth would Malfoy do that?"

"He told Scorpius that if Hufflepuff scored more than 200 points he would get a badger tattooed on his bum!" Albus grinned, "You'll let us go to watch, won't you? I've never seen a tattoo done on somebody-Scorp says that his dad has a bunch of them, did you know?"

"You are _not_ about to watch a grown man get a tattoo on his arse, Albus, that's completely inappropriate!" Ginny snorted firmly, shaking her head. "You hardly know the man!"

Harry was ready to argue that, thinking that it would be brilliant to watch Malfoy get a tattoo of a badger, but didn't get the chance to comment, as a blond head was bobbing through the crowd towards them, and Scorpius Malfoy popped into view from behind someones elbow. He was panting and sweaty, but grinning brightly, and said excitedly, "Dad said that you can come, if you want to, Al. Merlin, I'll never let him live this down!"

"Think your father would mind if we tagged along too, Scorpius?" Hermione cut in, smirking to herself, and Harry could have kissed her for wanting to see this as badly as he did. Scorpius frowned at her, confusion in his face, until she flushed and said quickly, "I'm Albus's aunt-I went to school with your father."

"She's Hermione Granger." Albus said proudly, and Harry pretended not to be jealous that Albus never talked about _him_ with that same type of awe in his voice.

"Oh." Scorpius said in surprise, and craned his head back to get a better look at her. Hermione almost seemed to be bracing herself, but Scorpius only shrugged and said, "You were right, Al, Rose does look a lot like her. I'm sure dad won't mind if you come along too. Err, are all of you coming?"

"Oh," Ron said, rubbing his hands together and grinning like a child on Christmas morning, "There is no way I'm missing this."

Ginny didn't argue again after that, and sighed as she followed them to find Malfoy, who's face went gryffindor red at seeing them all.

"I told you to bring Albus, not the entire horde of Potters and Weasley's." He groaned, as Scorpius slid up to his side, his face still shining.

"You'll still do it, won't you dad? You did say that if I-"

"Yes, I'm doing it." Malfoy groaned in mortification as Ron sniggered, "A promise is a promise, and I lost the bet. You need to get permission from McGonagall's before we go, though."

There was a hopeful note in Draco's voice, and Harry had the vague impression that he hoped McGonagall would forbid them from going, but the exact opposite happened, however, as she met Draco's eyes following the request, smiled gently, and said, "I see no harm in a trip to Hogsmead, so long as you've brought the boys back to the school before curfew."

Draco walked like a condemned man all the way to the gates, and somehow Neville had heard about what was going on, because just as they were getting to apparate into Hogsmead, he came running from the greenhouse, dirt speckling his top and hair wild on his head. Malfoy lowered his wand at seeing his approach, and groaned, "Ugh, Longbottom. Bloody hell, did you send him an owl about it? How does word travel so fast?"

"Bet you wish Pansy was here to save you, don't you?" Scorpius grinned as Neville came to a panting stop beside them, wheezing and doubling over to catch his breath, leaving dirty hand prints on his jeans when he finally stood up.

"Sorry," He told them all breathlessly, red-faced from the exertion, "I was working with the mandrakes, and I ran as fast as I could when i found out. Malfoy's gonna tattoo a badger on his arse?"

"I'm not very good at making bets." Malfoy said primly, and stuck his nose defensively in the air, "And you smell like dirt, Longbottom."

" _Dad_." Scorpius groaned in horror, "He's my _teacher_." 

"Ah, don't worry, Scorp." Neville winked at the younger blond, "Your dad's always been a grump."

"Got a stick up his arse, too." Ron muttered, "They'll probably have to move it for the tattoo."

Malfoy's head whipped towards Ron and he growled, "I don't have a-"

"You do, mate." Neville grinned, "I would know; I work with plants, after all."

"Ha bloody ha." Draco rolled his eyes, but Harry saw the edged of his mouth curling into the slightest of smiles, even if there was an anxious shine in his eyes. He figured that Malfoy was far more overwhelmed by the group than he let on, and Harry took a step back to give him space, which he was sure Malfoy noticed, as his shoulders relaxed a little. "Should we go, then?"

"You lead the way."Harry shrugged.

"Right. Grab my hand, Scorp." Malfoy nodded, and held his wand up again, dissaparating him and his son with a crack.

Harry and Ginny followed with Albus, and Ron and Hermione appeared just after them, Neville coming up last, stumbling a little when he landed on an uneven bit of sidewalk.

The tattoo artist was a slight girl with only a few tattoo's herself, but she seemed to know Draco, waving him over to the counter as they walked in, asking with a grin, "What is it this time? Thinking about taking my suggestion for the snitch?"

"He wants a badger." Scorpius said, standing beside his father at the counter with a mischievous grin. "A _Hufflepuff_ badger."

The girl dropped the quill she had been twisting in her fingers, and stared at Draco in shock, asking, "Merlin, have you lost your bloody mind? Never mind, you're the customer, do what you want. Where will you have it, then?"

"On his bum." Scorpius smirked, and crossed his arms in victory when Draco winced and the girl stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Harry couldn't help adding thoughtfully, "Tattoo like that seems a bit... _cheeky_...doesn't it?"

"Potter, I will finish what the dark lord started right here if you don't shut your mouth." Malfoy threatened, his face flaming as the Gryffindors and Scorpius doubled over on themselves to laugh at his expense.

"Why stop at just a badger?" The girl asked, and she flipped open a book of her tattoo designs, "Why not get the whole Hufflepuff emblem? I'll charge you the same amount."

"Oh my god, Malfoy, I dare you!"Neville snorted, laughing so hard he had tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Can you imagine Malfoy walking around with the entire Hufflepuff emblem on his ass?"

It only took Ron a few well placed jibed to goad Malfoy into doing it, and suddenly they were all in the back room, watching Malfoy sit with the top half of his left buttocks exposed as the girl from behind the desk worked to do the tattoo. He told Hermione jokingly when Malfoy peeled down the edge of his pants, "You're not allowed to watch; the only persons butt you should be seeing is mine."

There was almost nothing exposed, though, and Harry wondered why that disappointed him, but he didn't say it out loud. The lack of skin Malfoy was showing also seemed to put Ginny at ease, and her hand on Harrys arm relaxed. Malfoy squirmed uncomfortably, the blush never leaving his face, and made a comment about the coldness of the chair he was on before he went silent.

Albus frowned midway to her finishing, and asked, "Don't you have to come back and do multiple sessions to finish it?"

"Wizard tattoo's, darling." The girl turned to smile at him, "We get them done much more efficiently. You'd look nice with a boat on your shoulder, you know. Some big ship with dark sails and and a rolling skyline."

"Would I?" Albus asked with wide, curious eyes, and Harry exchanged a worried look with Ginny at the hope sparking in them.

"Talk to me when you're seventeen, and I'll set you right up." The girl winked, and then turned to Draco, casting a quick charm and saying kindly, "You're finished, Draco. Want to take a look at it?"

"No." Malfoy said, and whipped his jeans back up over the tattoo, standing grumpily to face them, asking, "You all happy now?"

He hadn't stopped them all from getting a good look at the finished product, though, and that, along with the tortured expression on Malfoys face had them all cracking up again, Ginny going so far as to bury her head against Harry's neck to hide the sound of her snorting. Ron declared, as Malfoy looked ready to shout at them, "The fact that you've got the Hufflepuff emblem permanently emblazoned on your arse cheek, Malfoy, just about makes up for everything you've ever done to us. Come on, you're still a git, but I'll gladly treat you to a pint after this!"

Neville wasn't comfortable going back to the school after drinking, so he took Scorpius and Albus back alone while Malfoy was dragged by Harry and Ron into the nearest pub, which happened to be the Three Broomsticks. It was almost friendly, the way they chatted with Malfoy, and ribbed him over his new tattoo-which he admitted was uncomfortable to sit on, making Ron fall into a fit of giggles again-and Harry wondered why he had been so uncertain about him. He didn't exactly fit in with them, and he was still a bit uptight, but Harry could tell he loved his son, and that he had changed after the war, and was more than happy to go for a drink with the blond every now and again, if they could only continue to get on so well. Malfoy didn't tell Ron, but Harry noticed that he only sipped from his butterbeer before he pushed the rest to Ginny, who winked at him before downing it. _What was going on there?_

Malfoy continued to do that with all of his drinks, and Harry was sure he was mostly sober even when everyone else felt the light buzzing of alcohol in their blood, Hermione and Ginny drank far more than Harry and Ron did, though, and it wasn't long before they called it a night, Harry supporting Ginny awkwardly as they stumbled out of the pub and onto the street.

They were nearly ready to go their separate ways when Malfoy cursed to himself and said, "Left my scarf in the stands at the school. I'd best go and get it."

"Oh!" Hermione groaned against Rons neck, "I don't have my bag! We need to go back, I can't leave it there, my book is in it! Hand me my wand, I can-"

"I'll get it, 'Mione." Harry said quickly, before she got the chance to drunkenly splinch herself. "Ron can take you and Gin to the burrow, and I'll run and pick up your bag. I can bring it to work next Monday, and you can get it from me in the lift in the morning."

"Thanks Happy." Hermions said with a sticky smile, and Harry didn't have the heart to correct her, instead helping Ginny stagger closer to Ron, who nodded gratefully at Harry before apparating away. Harry and Malfoy stood silently for a moment, and then Malfoy made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat and apparated to outside Hogwarts without a word. Harry made it to the gate just seconds after him, but somehow the blond was already halfway to the pitch, walking like his heels were about to catch fire.

Malfoy didn't find his scarf, but Hermione's bag was tucked under a bench where she had left it. The pair met at the exit, both surprised to see McGonagall standing at the end of the stairs with her wand drawn, a look of surprise on her face as she saw them. "Oh," She said, dissapointment sliding across her face, "I had thought a pair of kids snuck out here. Your boys are in their dorms, I presume?"

"Neville brought them back for us." Harry said, then blurted, far more inebriated than he realized before, "Malfoy got the Hufflepuff crest tattooed on his bum."

" _Potter!"_ Malfoy shouted in mortification, looking wide-eyed between his old professor and Harry.

McGonagall stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, then lowered her wand, crossed her arms together, and coughed into her fist as her face warmed. Harry realized suddenly how horribly inappropriate that had probably been. "Sorry, I'm a little drunk and I-"

He stopped talking. It wasn't doing him any good.

McGonagall nodded sharply at him, then turned to Malfoy and said, "I was under the impression that the trip to Hogsmead was only for a bit of shopping. Oh, well, I should have known better that that when I saw you with a Weasley. Now, as Hogwarts headmistress, I think it is my duty to be sure you have an accurate representation of our prestigious house, mister Malfoy. Perhaps I should check to be certain there are no flaws in the design."

Harry couldn't believe it, and he and Malfoy exchanged horrified looks as they gauged her seriousness, and determined her words to be a joke-or at least Harry thought they had. Malfoy was slightly more drunk than he let on though, or else he was just out of his mind, because a second after Harry thought they had agreed she was joking, Malfoy had whipped around and dropped trough, gold and grey tattoo winking at McGonagall, who threw her hands up and shouted in a mixture of outrage and amusement, "MISTER MALFOY!"

Harry couldn't even find it in him to laugh, he was so stunned. It was only out for what must have been a half second, and then Malfoy had pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt with the most smug, shit-eating grin Harry had ever seen, saying, "At least you got a look at my better side, headmistress."

That time, Harry did laugh, and McGonagall turned away with a crimson face, muttering about how she had never seen a Slytherin with such clearly Gryffindor qualities. Harry laughed all the way home, and even when he tried to fall asleep, he couldn't stop looking at the ceiling, replaying his time with Malfoy in his head, a smile working its way across his face. _Draco Malfoy was something else._

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 **Authors note:** This is so cheesy oh my god, but I wanted to give a fun spin on the characters and get them to a place where they are at least somewhat comfortable with eachother, enough that they can be ridiculous and drunk and completely stupid, which is something I always find funny. Thought or questions? Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note:** This story is undergoing some major construction following some comments that reccomended it and pointed out some flaws in the structure. I looked into both of my stories following some reviews and when I reread I discovered that I uploaded the wrong versions of a couple of the chapters and totally skipped adding two that would have explained what happened in my latest chapter. I think the problem is because I combined this story with two other ones I was working on seperately and not all of my changes were saved, so for anyone reading this story I'm really sorry for all of that, I'm doing my best to fix it and am going to reupload my other chapters once I fix them. Thank you so much for all of your love and reviews! I appreciate everything, even if it's criticism! Please let me know if you find any more flaws with my work and I can address it while I re-write and edit. Thank you so much!

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Harry woke the next morning with a pounding headache and a severe case of memory loss as the sun streamed through his open front window to blind him. All he remembered was that there had been a Quidditch match, and that he had spent time with Malfoy after the game, which didn't make a lick of sense to his reeling mind. Everything else about the previous day was fuzzy, and his ears were ringing so terribly it made his eyes water. It took him three whole minutes to realize that it wasn't a _ctually_ his ears ringing, but his alarm, and he rolled over onto his stomach to clap a hand over it, successfully silencing it. It helped his headache marginally.

He took his time in the shower, enjoying the spray of hot water on his back, so soothing it nearly put him back to sleep before he remembered that he was supposed to be getting ready for work at the ministry. He didn't have field work, which he was grateful for, as he was sure he couldn't get through it in the state he was in, but he wasn't looking forward to the paperwork that was likely piled on his desk.

He made it to work only five minutes late, which he thought wasn't so bad considering his headache, but then he realized he had left his auror robes on the bed and had to apparate back to his apartment to pick them up. The auror department had really started to crack down on employees who didn't wear their uniforms during all hours in the ministry, whether they were doing paperwork or not. Harry knew he would probably get away with only his jeans and tee shirt, being who he was, but he didn't want to use his name to get what he wanted, and he didn't feel like having his coworkers resenting him. By the time he was back he was fifteen minutes late, and Ron was sat at his desk, moaning into his arms and nudging a cup of coffee away from himself.

"I forgot Mion'e bag." Harry said as he sat heavily, and tried to ignore how much the bright lights of the office hurt his head.

"She'll thank you for it. She's worse off than I am; she has no business reading any of the books she's got in it." Ron mumbled, then looked up to squint at Harry, frowning deeply to ask, "Did you brush your hair this morning at all?"

Harry shrugged, honestly not able to draw enough focus to try and remember, then touched the corner of his mouth to tell Ron groggily, "You've got toothpaste, just there."

"Oh." Ron said, blinking and not moving to scrub it off, "I didn't know I brushed my teeth this morning. Good for me."

Harry would have wondered if he had himself, but he could still taste the mint of his mouthwash at the back of his throat, and the question answered itself. He looked around the office they were in, and, as they were the only two in it, asked, "Want to lock the door and nap till lunch?"

"Thank Merlin." Ron sighed, and stood up, moving to the door and practically slamming it closed, twisting the lock into place. "I took a headache potion, but it hasn't helped a bit."

They managed to fall asleep at their desks until noon, when Hermione knocked on their door and startled them awake, Rons arms flailing as he sat up and shouted, "We're working on a case!"

"Ronald, it's me." Hermione called, "We all know you two are sleeping in there, we can hear you snoring. Come on, I've got hangover potions from the fourth floor, but you've got to eat something before you take them."

Harry and Ron exchanged relieved glances with one another and quickly marched out of the office, following Hermione down to the canteen, where they bought sandwiches and water (Hermione had slapped Harrys arm when he tried to go for a soda, telling him that it would do the opposite of help him). Harry's hangover had already started to fade, but once he downed the potion he felt particularly more awake, and far less miserable. It wasn't nearly as bright as he had thought. Ron had a smile so wide he was at a risk for his face to get stuck that way. Hermione merely sighed and said, "I imagine Ginny is doing terrible. She flooed back over to Romania to go to a practice for her team."

"With how much she drank last night?" Ron asked in awe, "I don't know how she does it."

"She's resilient."Hermione sighed, then shook her curls out of her face and asked Harry with a frown, "How were things with Malfoy last night? Did you two find what you were looking for?"

Hearing Malfoy's name triggered an avalanche of memories his sore head had previously omitted, and Harry jerked upright, blurting before he could stop himself, "Malfoy flashed McGonagall!"

Hermione spat her water across the table, choking, and Ron pounded her back until she was able to settle herself enough to ask hoarsely, eyes watering, "Malfoy did _what,_ Harry?"

Ron had a gobsmacked expression on his face, but he didn't say a word, so Harry explained sheepishly, "His bare arse. He showed his bare arse to McGonagall."

"Why the bloody hell did he do that?"

"Well, because she asked him to, I imagine." Harry said, making certain Hermione didn't have a mouth full of water that time. She was mopping up what she had spit out with napkins, and froze at what Harry said. He went through the scenario rather quickly after that, feeling second-hand embarrassment from the memory, and by the time he had finished, Ron had decided that they needed to get Malfoy drunk more often, if that was the type of story it produced.

"He wasn't drunk, though." hermione frowned, "He kept foisting his drinks off on me and Gin. How else do you think we got drunk twice as fast as the two of you?"

"Don't you try to tell me that he pulled that stunt while sober." Ron scolded, crossing his arms and shaking his head as he sat back in his chair. "Malfoy isn't that brave."

"Perhaps he's changed." Hermione shrugged thoughtfully, "Or maybe we've misjudged him."

"Hardly." Ron snorted, "One night of drinking with the bloke doesn't make us friends. He's still a prat-a loony prat, apparently, but a prat nonetheless."

"Well, we'll just have to see next week, then, won't we?" Hermione said, crossing her arms uncomfortably and staring at the table with her lips pursed.

"What do you mean next week? There isn't a Quidditch game next week." Ron frowned, but Harry caught her eye and his stomach flipped.

"You don't mean dinner at the burrow, do you?"

There was a second of silence, but that was all he and Ron needed as confirmation to Harry's fears.

"Mione, you invited him to the burrow?!" Ron shrieked, his face white with horror, "Mum and dad will never allow it!"

"I didn't invite him, Ginny did! She thought we should play Quidditch again, for old times sake." Hermione winced, "Besides, he evens the teams. Now George doesn't have to sit out if Malfoy plays on the team with me and Gin."

"You couldn't have asked me first?" Ron groaned, putting his head down on the table in a show of distaste. "Feed a stray dog and you'll never be rid of him, haven't you ever heard that before?"

"First off, I didn't invite him. Second, he is hardly a stray dog, Ronald."

"Yeah?" Ron argued, lifting his head again, one of Hermione's damp napkins stuck to his forehead, "Explain why he's such a bitch, then?"

Harry pretended to cough into his elbow to hide his laugh, and Hermione thinned her lips to snatch the napkin off of her husbands head before she growled, "You'll play nicely, Ron, and no name calling. I'm sure everything will go just fine."

Harry was nearly in agreement with that, but couldn't help wondering when Malfoy and Ginny had gotten so close.

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Harry nervously anticipated the Weasleys bi-weekly dinner for four days before it happened, and the day of he changed his clothes twice, worried about what Malfoy would think of his outfit choice. Should he go casual, like he always did? Should he use a spell to keep his hair down? Maybe he ought to wear dress pants, but that wouldn't be practical if they were going to play Quidditch after dinner, would it? What was Malfoy going to wear?

Eventually he realized he was running late when his watch chirped its alarm, and he apparated onto the front steps of the burrow in a tee shirt and jeans, hoping he wasn't underdressed. Molly Weasley was just closing the door after Ginny when he arrived, and jumped back in surprise at his sudden arrival with a cry of, "Oh! Harry, you startled me, dear!"

"Sorry, Molly." He said sheepishly, and bent himself down into her hug, while scanning over her shoulder for Malfoy. He almost thought he hadn't arrived yet, but he knew Malfoy had a thing about being early, and finally spotted him through the kitchen, chatting with Arthur, who seemed tense but not all around unhappy to have the blond there. Molly pulled away from him, and followed his gaze, her smile looking a little more forced as the corners of her eyes crinkled and she said, "Ginny told you that she invited Malfoy, didn't she?"

"Yeah, I knew he'd come." Harry said, "He's going to play on hers and hermione's Quidditch team; even them up a bit so George can play."

"Oh, wonderful." Molly said, relaxing a fraction, "I knew you could let go of past rivalries, Harry. You'll be careful, won't you? You won't fight with him?"

"We've gotten on alright lately, actually." Harry said sheepishly, wondering why Ginny or Ron hadn't told her as much, or Malfoy himself.

"I know that, dear, it's just that you've got that famous temper of yours, and I know how the Malfoy boy used to rile you up. I've already spoken with my children about that, since they aren't much better."

"If anyone throws punches, Misses Weasley, it will be Ron." Harry winked, and chuckled when her hands clapped together in worry. "What are Malfoy and Arthur doing, anyways?"

"Oh, Arthur is just showing him his collection of wires." Molly said, with a meaningful look to Harry. He knew immediately what it meant. he hadn't looked it, but Arthur was trying to bait Malfoy into saying something rude about muggles so that he would show his old prejudice and be asked to leave. Harry quickly moved into the kitchen, intent on stopping them, but rather than arguing they appeared to be having quiet conversation, heads bent close over an old plug.

"Everything going all right?" harry asked them, suspicion not quite fading.

"Hmm?" Arthur asked distractedly, then looked up at him, "Oh, yes, wonderful! I'm telling Malfoy about where I found this last week! Someone charmed it to spark all hours of the night, but I corrected it."

"You shouldn't keep things from work, Arthur." Molly scolded, coming up behind Harry and moving to the table, pushing aside the wires that were sprawled across its top, sighing, "Dear, we are about to eat, can't you please put these back in their box now?"

"Alright, alright." Arthur told her, pulling away from Malfoy to clear up his things. Harry exchanged a nervous look with the blond, who was in a button-down top and jeans, just a tad more formally dressed than Harry.

"Err, welcome to the burrow." Harry said stupidly, not knowing what he should say.

"Thanks, Potter." Malfoy grinned, "Did you apparate here? Your glasses are crooked."

"Oh." Harry said, and righted them quickly. He hadn't realized, and felt his face heating despite the fact that he knew he shouldn't be embarrassed over something so minor. "Have you seen George yet?"

"Ronald?" Harry frowned.

"Yes, it makes his ears go red when I call him that." Malfoy smirked, "So I don't think I'll stop quite yet."

"Look," Harry whispered, stepping up closer to Malfoy so Molly wouldn't overhear as she pulled trays from the oven, "This is important, alright? Don't try and cause a fight."

"I wouldn't of dream of it." Malfoy said, and put his hand over his chest in mock offense. He smirked at Harry and said, "I'm just trying to throw him off his game so we'll win at Quidditch. He doesn't play as well when he's angry."

"Still have to resort to cheap tricks to win, eh Malfoy?" Ron asked loudly, strolling into the kitchen with an arm around Hermione.

"It's the Slytherin way, Weasel." Malfoy said, his nose angled towards the ceiling pompously, "But I could still beat you if I had my arms tied behind my back, no tricks necessary."

"Maybe, but only because you've got Ginny on your team. A professional player against all us normal blokes? Hardly seems fair to me." Harry said with a smirk, his gut unknotting as he took in the friendly edge to their bantering. "She could destroy all of us even on her own."

"Damn straight." Ginny said, and brushed past Harry, with George at her side, to take a seat at the table. Molly settled six trays on the table and immediately everyone was pulling up chairs to sit and eat. Arthur headed the table at one end, and Molly took the other, leaving Hermione and Ron sat at one end with Percy (who Harry hadn't noticed until right then) and Malfoy between George and Harry on the other.

There was silence besides the sound of spoons and forks clacking on plates and dishes being passed once they all got settled, and finally it got to be enough that Harry asked Hermione with a loud swallow, "How is Rosie doing in school?"

"Oh, she's a champ, really. Head of her class just after Scorpius. You should be very proud, Malfoy."

Harry knew she was turning the conversation to him on purpose, and Malfoy seemed increasingly uncomfortable as all eyes swiveled to him, but he cleared his throat to say softly, "He's a good kid, I couldn't ask for one better."

"You know what sort of career he wants?" Molly asked encouragingly, smiling at him politely.

"He changes his mind so often it's hard to tell. Right now he wants to be an artist, but he always seems to come back to wanting to be a baker, so who knows, really, what he'll decide."

"Rose said something about his cupcakes in a letter just last week." Hermione said with a grin, "They've been going to the kitchens on the weekends to cook with the house elves."

"Ha!" Arthur snorted, before he could stop himself, probably thinking along the same vein of thought that Harry was. _If Lucius Malfoy could only see his grandson in the kitchens with the house elves._ Arthur coughed quickly to cover it, sensing Molly's glare from across the table, and said sheepishly, "Sorry, uh, lamb in the throat."

"It's cleared, then, isn't it?" She asked sharply.

"Yepp-uh- Yes, dear, it's gone now."

"Good. There had better not be anything else getting stuck, now." She warned, and turned back to Malfoy kindly, saying excitedly, "Does he get it from his mother, that talent he's got in the kitchen?"

"Actually, no." Malfoy said, looking awkward and toying with his fork on his plate, "He, uh, learned it from me."

" _You?!_ " Arthur and Ron burst out in synch, as George bypassed questions to lean back in his chair in a fit of laughter. Harry was glad to see that Malfoy only _barely_ winced.

"George Weasley you will be polite or you will leave this table!" Molly snapped at her son, eyes narrowing, and George bit his lip and forced himself to shrink his laughs down to giggles, which he concealed unconvincingly as coughs, like his father had. Molly pursed her lips and said stiffly, "Lamb seems to be getting caught in everyone's throats today."

George snorted, but Molly didn't catch it, and Harry said quickly, "I didn't know you baked, Malfoy."

"I don't, really." Malfoy said, and it didn't take an expert to see he was uncomfortable, but Molly Weasley had trouble discerning it anyways.

"Oh?" She asked, tipping her head to the side, "How did it come about then?"

There was a pause before Malfoy admitted quietly, in a way that made Harrys heart clench, "I only started experimenting with it after Astoria died. I remembered that she had always wanted to teach him, because her mother used to bake with her when she was young, but she never got the opportunity before she passed. I didn't want Scorp to lose that experience, though, so I learned how to do it, and then I taught him. If she had lived long enough, I think she would have been proud of him."

"I'm so sorry, dear." Molly said, and Harry knew that if Malfoy was sitting in his place she would have put a hand over his. George wasn't laughing anymore, and looked rather embarrassed, and Ron didn't have a word to say. Arthur was looking pointedly away from his wife.

Malfoy shook himself and said with a slight smile, "It was years ago, I'm fine."

"I'm sure you miss her, though." Hermione said softly, her eyes round and glistening, "If I were to lose Ron..."

she had to stop herself at the thought to take a steadying breath then continued, "It must be hard, is all I'm saying. I can see that you loved her."

"She was my best friend." Malfoy said, and Harry pretended not to notice that he blinked rather hard to lose the shine in his eyes, "We were married because our parents wanted us to be, and that was it, but it's hard not to love someone like her, you know? Even if it wasn't ever romantic, she was my favorite person in the world, and waking up next to her was something I never thought I would miss, but I always do. I just-she was my best friend."

"I'm sorry, Draco." Hermione said, her face creasing with sadness. Ron shifted uncomfortably next to her, and Molly was blinking back tears as she stared at her husband and then at George, then to the clock that was missing a hand with his twins picture. Harry knew they were thinking of Fred. He was thinking of his own parents, and all that he had missed from not growing up with them. _Would they have taught him how to bake too?_

"How is Scorpius taking it?" Harry asked before he could think through his question. He couldn't tell if he was being insensitive or not, too caught up with trying to find similarities to himself in the child.

"He's doing better. She passed when he was two, so he doesn't remember much about her, but he's doing great. When it first happened, all he would do was ask for her, and look for her, and there were nights that he wouldn't stop crying for her, but I was the only one there and he _just_ _didn't_ _want_ _me_. I didn't think it would ever stop; didn't think he would ever stop looking for his mom, but one day he just seemed to understand it that she was gone, and he's been okay ever since. That's not to say it's not hard, or that we don't miss her, because we do, and that will never go away completely, it's just that it's gotten easier to bear her absence."

"I can't imagine." Hermione whispered, "If Ron were to die tomorrow-"

"How would I die tomorrow, all I'm doing is paperwork in the office?" Ron scoffed, and blinked quickly, "Can we stop with the depressing conversations now and try to smile a little? Merlin, you're all about to burst out crying on your dinners. Lets talk about something different-something positive-lets make fun of Malfoy's ugly jacket, at least, just stop with the sad stuff. You know I can't play Quidditch if I'm depressed."

"It's not an ugly jacket." Malfoy frowned, and Harry turned to look where a paisley purple jacket was hanging by the front door.

"It's hideous, mate." Ron snorted, finally beginning to relax. "You couldn't say anything to make me think otherwise."

"It was the last gift Astoria ever gave to me." Draco said, and Ron's face completely drained of color. Molly dropped her spoon into her soup, and Arthur Weasley's jaw unhinged itself to drop open. There was nothing but silence as they stared with wide eyes at Malfoy, and Harry was just about to groan when Malfoy's lips twitched and he said casually, "Just kidding."

"YOU ARE SUCH A BASTARD, MALFOY!" Ron shouted, but the relief was flooding his face as the table erupted in laughter, tension fizzling out as lighthearted conversation made its way around the table. Harry's heart was still beating in his chest wildly at the scare of thinking Ron had offended the blond, and the red-heads hands kept shaking with how relieved he was, so Harry knew he felt it too. Harry was ready to annihilate Malfoy at Quidditch for the joke, just to get the satisfied look off his pointed face-which he had really grown into since their days at Hogwarts, not that Harry was paying any attention.

Malfoy was a great conversationalist once they got him into softer topics, and Harry was surprised at how easily Malfoy could rattle off facts about old jazz singers to Molly, which was a talent that was as impressive as it was useless. Malfoy didn't seem to care, though, and soon they were all out in the backyard holding brooms (Malfoy was borrowing Bill's old one, and Harry took Charlies) and shaking hands, ready for a fierce game.

They played four rounds with little incident, Malfoy's team tied with Harry's, and only because Malfoy cheated on the last round and pulled Harrys broom to secure the snitch, telling him innocently, "We never decided to play by the rules, Potter."

Ginny had slapped him on the back with a smile, her eyes alight with pride, and Ron told her grumpily, "We never considered to play against cheaters."

"Why don't you complain to the ref, then, Weasel?" Malfoy asked with wide, innocent eyes. Harry felt the old urge to punch him surfacing. He wasn't sure how Malfoy could change from being friendly to being obnoxious so quickly, but the blond certainly seemed to have a knack for it.

"Alright, fine." George said, his face hardening, "If Malfoy's team doesn't have to play by the rules, neither does ours. No rules; whoever wins this round are the ultimate Quidditch champions-until the next time we play, at least. Ready?"

"Born ready." Harry and Malfoy said at once, glaring at one another. Harry couldn't tell if it was aggressive or not, but he _did_ notice that Malfoy looked rather fetching when he was trying to be threatening, and then he immediately pretended he had never thought that at all and looked instead at the grass.

They took off into the air, wind whipping around Harry's head and stinging his face with the cold. He and Malfoy searched avidly for the snitch, while looking back at each other every few seconds to make sure the other wasn't in reaching distance. Harry decided to get into the spirit a few minutes in, stealing the quaffle (They were only playing with one, and there were no bludgers; instead, Percy lounged in the grass and shot an occasional curse at one of them in its place. Harry was sure he had a bruise from a stinging charm that had hit his thigh in the first game.) away from Ginny to score on Hermione, who still hated being on a broom, but was getting more comfortable with the idea the more they played. Malfoy saw him the third time he did it and shouted angrily, "You're a seeker, Potter, not a chaser!"

"I thought we weren't playing by the rules, Malfoy?" Harry called back at him with a smirk, and the blond glared in his direction before he dodged a curse from Percy, who had now joined the game thanks to Ron's coercion, and was apparently firing hexes for Harry's team, claiming that he was "a bludger gone rogue". Harry admired his creativity and laughed uproariously when a mispronounced hex hit Malfoy to turn his hair pink. It only stayed for a second before Malfoy fixed it and hit Percy with a body bind and levitated him back into the grass. It was then that Harry went back to looking for the snitch, and tried to keep from focussing on the antics of the other players.

Malfoy saw it first, a glint of gold in the line of trees along the yard, but Harry was hot on his tail as they raced for it, arms outstretched. Harry kicked the back of Malfoy's broom, and soon they were completely parallel, shoving and kicking to get ahead unsuccessfully. Harry hissed when Malfoy's knee jabbed the bruise from Percy's hex, and he retaliated by reaching over to grab the handle of Malfoy's broom, shaking it to try and throw him off course. Malfoy shoved him away, and snarled competitively, "Move, Potter, I was here first!"

"You move!" Harry challenged, and tried to shake Malfoy's broom again.

"Have a habit of grabbing other mens brooms, Potter, or am I just special?" Malfoy sneered, and Harry's face heated at the implication. The competitive edge was back in his gut, curling in a way that bordered unpleasantness.

"Do you have a habit of _riding_ other men's brooms, or was that something you only did with Krum?" Harry fired back, and sped ahead before he could feel guilty about it. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to know about that, much less talk about it.

Malfoy was back at his side in no time, and Harry was surprised to see how determined the blond had become, a hard look on his face that almost startled Harry, who realized very quickly that, no, he _shouldn't_ have brought that up in what was supposed to be a friendly game. He considered letting Malfoy win, just to smooth it over, but suddenly wondered if the blond was just toying with him again, and sped up as much as he could-not that it helped, since Malfoy was just as fast as he was. He felt his fingers graze the snitch, but couldn't close a hand on it. Malfoy's thumb skimmed a wing. They both lurched forward for it, eyes locked, and it looked as if they both might secure it, but then the snitch zipped in the opposite direction, following Hermione's shrill cry of, "Accio snitch!"

Harry and Draco both pulled to a stop, breathing hard, as George complained about how catching the snitch that way wasn't fair, whether there were rules or not. Harry sighed, and turned to Malfoy, who he knew was still fuming, and said through his panting, "I shouldn't have said that about Krum. That wasn't fair."

"No," Malfoy agreed, his eyes narrowing, "It wasn't."

"Look, don't do that. Don't get all huffy and mad, you know I didn't mean it."

"You didn't mean it?" Malfoy snorted, "I find that hard to believe. You haven't liked that I'm gay since you found out last year in McGonagall's office!"

"What? What are you talking about? Malfoy, I was _surprised_ , not grossed out!" Harry rolled his eyes, barely able to contain the urge to laugh at the Slytherins ridiculousness, "Learn to read body language you humungous git! I only said that thing about Krum because you made the joke about brooms! I wouldn't have said it if I thought it would piss you off!"

"Alright, fine, thats fair." Malfoy huffed after a moment of thought, then glanced sideways at Harry to ask with a pink face, "You don't care I'm gay, then? You can tell me if you do."

Harry groaned, his stomach doing an odd flipping motion beneath his ribs at how Malfoy struggled to look casual, and he said with a sigh, "If you were that worried about what I thought you could have asked me outright, Malfoy. You haven't got to go goad me into getting angry with you in order to find out what I think. I say stupid things when I'm mad, it will never lead you anywhere good to rile me up. If you're going to be friends with me, that's something you ought to know."

"We're friends?" Malfoy asked, and this time he seemed surprised, and not unpleasantly. Harrys heart warmed. And then, unexpectedly, so did his groin, but he tried not to concentrate on that. They had only just become friends, and he didn't know exactly how he felt about the blond yet-much less how the blond felt about _him_.

"Do you think I would invite a stranger to play Quidditch and eat dinner at the burrow?"

"You didn't. Ginny did."

"Point is, I don't hate you." Harry said loudly, before Malfoy could say anything else. _Why does he have to make everything so difficult?_

"Oh." Malfoy said, but it was clear he wanted Harry to say more, if only to stroke his ego.

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten mentally before he said, "You're an infuriating git, but I don't hate you, and I wouldn't completely despise it if we were friends."

"You wouldn't?" Malfoy asked skeptically.

"No, I would." Harry said with a sly smile, "But I would only despise it a _little_. Chances are I would probably enjoy it most of the time, being your friend."

"Well..." Malfoy said thoughtfully, his bottom lip being worried over between a row of shiny white teeth, "Scorpius is friends with your son, so I guess I'll have no choice but to continue seeing you in the future, and I suppose being friends with you won't kill me."

"Thanks for that, Malfoy." Harry shook his head in amusement. He didn't know quite what he should say next, and cleared his throat to offer in a forced casual tone, "Should we fly in now before George starts a fist fight with his sister?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note:** Okay, so there are some pretty major changes to the story starting now that didn't get uploaded the first time, which I'm sorry about. I'm working hard to fix everything and find the pieces that didn't save properly (so, almost all of them) so I can upload them how I intended to, I hope its still a story you guys can read and enjoy, please comment and let me know your thoughts!

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Harry hadn't seen Malfoy for almost two weeks after the Summer holiday started, and he was made busy with the kids, who had become much more difficult to handle now that they knew magic. Ginny had been traded to a new team and hadn't been able to see them since Hogwarts let out, so Harry was struck with relief when she showed up on his doorstep with an apologetic smile and a request to borrow their children for a couple days. Harry all but pushed them onto her, ignoring it when she laughed and asked him, "The great Harry Potter can't handle a few kids?"

"He's not _that_ great." Albus had rolled his eyes with a sly smile at his father, "He can't even make eggs the right way."

"You try working overnight as an auror and raising three teenagers, _then_ tell me how important it is to make eggs properly." Harry said huffily, but mussed Albus's hair with a smile. Lily hugged him quickly before she left, and James gave his father a half-smile, and then the house was empty besides Harry.

He would have liked to say that he missed having the kids in the house, but in truth he was so relieved to have a moments silence that he hardly spared them a thought, collapsing onto the couch and flicking on the television with an open butterbeer. He ended up watching old cartoon reruns, and fell asleep without meaning to, his empty bottle sitting on its side on the carpet as he snored through the night and up to the next morning.

Once again, his alarm woke him, blaring from his bedroom. He barely heard it, being so far away, but was grateful for it nonetheless as it saved him from flooing into work late again. He may be Harry Potter, but he knew better than to try and get away with getting special treatment. He burst through the fireplace at the ministry at the same time Ron did, and his companion grinned, saying, "Ginny stopped by this morning. She's taking Rose and Hugo out with your lot to see a muggle aquarium. Hermione's gone with her, so I've got the house to myself if we finish work early enough. You know how long it's been since I've been the only one home?"

"Joys of having kids, mate." Harry grinned, and clapped him on the back. "You can always come over to mine, you know. I've been meaning to go over to Grimmuald place and finish cleaning it out, but I haven't got the time."

"You and that bloody house." Ron sighed, shaking his head, "It's been a good twenty years and you've still barely stirred the dust. I don't see why you can't just use magic to get it clean."

"It's just nice to do some things the muggle way." Harry shrugged, not sure himself why he was so insistent on cleaning everything up by hand. Spells certainly would be easier. "You know what our assignment is?"

"We're on patrols in Diagon." Ron said, "Not as exciting as an actual case, but it sure beats paperwork, doesn't it?"

"Anything beats paperwork." Harry chuckled, and they stepped distractedly into the lift to the third floor to retrieve their badges from the office and to sign into work. There was a queue in front of the assignment board when they stepped into the office, which was strange in itself, but not as strange as seeing Kingsley wringing his hands in front of the door to Harry and Ron's cramped office. Harry exchanged a look with Ron, and said at once, noting the sweat the beaded their superiors brow, "Somethings happened."

Kingsley never came to the auror offices anymore, and when he did he was either casually stepping in, or dropping by for a chat with Harry or Ron with a wide smile, his openness reminding them of why he had been elected the new minister of magic. He didn't look pleased to be there in the least, and Harry and Ron cautiously made their way before him, trying to gauge what sort of greeting they should go for. Ron said tightly, his voice pinched with nerves, "Morning, Minister."

Normally, Harry would have scoffed at seeing Ron intimidated by somebody they considered a friend, but it hardly seemed the time, and he bent his head forward politely to the man, who returned the greeting in kind.

"Is there something we can do for you, sir?" Harry asked, with a severely dried out town, starched with professionalism. He had practiced it for ages when he'd first got the job, hoping to appear much more mature. He was glad to have it as a skill in times like these, when it seemed there was no best emotion to settle on displaying.

Kinglseys dark eyes scanned the room of talkative aurors slowly before he beckoned to their door, saying out the side of his mouth, "It's best we talk privately, I think."

"Of course, Minister." Ron said, trying to match his voice with Harrys as he fumbled with his key and pushed the door open. They entered at once, and before Harry had a chance to ask another question the door was shut and Kingsley had cast a gruff muffliato.

"Don't tell me it's another dark lord." Harry said, hoping to break the tension now that there was only the three of them, but Kingsley gave hm a hard look and he closed his mouth with a snap. _Right, not the time._

"You know about the two recruits who were dismissed just this past winter, don't you?" Kingsley finally asked, sitting back in a chair that he had transfigured out of their coat stand. It had a long barred back and curled feet that seemed too thin to keep the man up. Harry shook his head.

"Sater and Harver, wasn't it?" Ron asked, perking up as he settled behind his desk. "They got into it with a criminal during an interrogation and tried to curse information out of him, right?"

Oh. Harry did remember them, now that he heard the story again. They had been new and young, just out of Hogwarts, and hadn't put a toe out of line until the incident. It had been so sudden and unexpected that nobody had known what to think, and they were barely able to keep it out of the media when the pair were tried and sentenced to half a year in Azkaban. Kingsley nodded stiffly, his eyes moving from Harry to Ron in turn, as if to convey some hidden meaning, and he leaned forward in his seat, wrinkling his puce robes to whisper gruffly, his voice like sandpaper around Harry's heart, "There's been another incident."

Normally, Harry wouldn't have felt so chilled by the news; it was a simple case, and it wasn't like it hadn't happened before, but there was something in Kingsley's eyes that told him there was something much darker at play. Ron sensed it too, shoulders snapping into a hard line, his face creased with attention. Kingsley nodded, and continued gravely, "Two more aurors went against the books last night, and tried to use extreme measures in order to attain information. They've never done anything like this, similar to the last two, and this pair has been working together since before you two joined the force."

"Pressure of the job got to them, maybe." Ron said, in an attempt to shrug the problem away. It was clear he didn't believe it for a second. Harry didn't either.

"Shannon Hardy and Don Knacks were on patrol last night in Diagon." Harry said, suddenly remembering. Shannon had always been quiet, the oldest auror there, gaining on her eighties, and had amused Harry for a long time when he saw her romancing with an older bloke from the department of Mysteries, sneaking him in for lunch when there weren't many people around to see them. Don was a father of four, all having graduated from Durmstrang, and he had given Harry helpful advice about parenting in the lift more times than he could count. Neither seemed capable of going against the a person in such a way that they would injure them for information. It wasn't in their nature. Kingsley looked solemn as he nodded at Harry.

"They caught up to a man selling illegal potions on a street corner. According to all of our witnesses they had been casual and pleasant until then, dropping by a local coffee place and stopping for ice cream only an hour before it happened. They had just put him under an incarcerous before curses started flying. The suspect in question didn't seem to have done anything to set them off, and was reported to be compliant with all of their wishes."

"That doesn't make sense, they're the friendliest people on the team." Ron frowned, practically reading Harrys thoughts. "I personally have received Christmas socks from Shannon on two different occasions. She wouldn't curse anyone if she didn't have a really good reason."

Harry nodded his agreement, and Kingsley gave a deep sigh, running his palms over his face in a rare show of exhaustion as he said, "Thats exactly how everyone else felt about it, too. We sent them home for the night to recoup and find out what happened; told them that we would discuss it in the morning, but didn't want to make any rash decisions until we knew the details."

"Something happened when they got home." Harry guessed, his blood going to ice and his lungs hardening with the labor that breathing caused him. He tried to focus on counting the seconds between his breaths, forcing himself out of the panic attack before it could properly hit him.

Kingsleys hands dropped and he said, without looking at either of them, "Don had a seizure, and collapsed on the welcome mat in front of his house. He didn't make it to St. Mungo's before the cold got him."

"And Shannon?" Ron asked, his voice a notch higher than before. "Is she alive?"

"Worse." Kingsley said miserably, the lines in his face far more prominent than they ever had been before, "She apparated to her daughters house in the middle of the night. Killed her, the husband, and two grandkids. The third was at a friends house. Aurors found her sitting with the bodies this morning when she failed to show up for work."

Harry swallowed down bile and blinked the film away from his eyes that had started to build up. _Don was dead. Shannon murdered her daughter._ Ron looked green, and stared slack-jawed at Kingsley, who only had worse news to give, claiming, "Someone cursed them to do it."

"An imperius curse?" Harry guessed, trying to maintain his professionalism. Things never went well when his emotions clouded his head, and all he could think of right then was his own children, smiling and happy, and then of Shannon, who must have been paralyzed with grief when the spell wore away.

"We don't know what it was. Something new, clearly, and very dangerous. Shannon won't be the same; she's got to babbling out of control, we can't understand a word she's saying, and her eyes are somewhere else when we speak to her. She doesn't seem to understand what it is she's done."

"What will you do to her?" Harry asked, his hands shaking so badly he had to put them in his pockets. _Could this effect his kids? Could he do something to hurt them like Shannon had? Could he_ kill _them?_

"Not Azkaban, surely!" Ron cried in alarm, his face so pale that his freckles stood out like neon road signs.

"St. Mungos is looking after her." Kingsley groaned, "And we've pulled the other two kids from Azkaban as well after reviewing their reports; they were patrolling in Diagon on the day they snapped, too. They don't have symptoms as severe as Don and Shannon did, but there were enough similarities to bring the case back to the wizengamot. We've put them under observation at St. Mungo's as well."

"If you're going to put us on the case then you've got to promise our kids won't be in danger. I won't be chasing some baddie that will have me ripping my family apart, and Harry won't either." Ron said determinedly, standing abruptly.

"I'm keeping you off of the case outside of research based investigation, actually." Kingsley said, his voice softening as he said, "You two would be too much of a liability to send out. If somebody is targeting aurors then they'll go for the big names sooner or later; really work to tear the ministry down. It's clever, testing the spell on different aurors under our noses, seeing how long it takes us to catch on."

"So other aurors could be effected?" Ron asked, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline, "If the first two we noticed were cursed back in December, who knows how many have been hit since?"

"Exactly, which is why we need you two to be available in the office to go over all of the cases we have had over the past year and check for similarities."

Harrys gut sank. Ron suddenly didn't look so concerned, and asked with a crestfallen expression, "Every case over the past year? But sir, we will never be able to do it on our own."

"You'll have help, of course, from the department of Mysteries. There are thirty one Unspeakables who have been tasked to investigate case files with you."

"Why Unspeakables?" Ron asked with a frown, "Why not aurors?"

"You don't want anyone else to know." Harry said, staring at Kingsley in horror, rage bubbling in his gut all too explosively as he snarled out, "There is somebody out there who will let us kill our families, and you don't want anyone else to know what they're up against! You don't want them to be scared, you want them to-"

"It's not just for their sake that we are keeping this quiet, auror Potter!" Kingsley raised his voice, cutting Harry off successfully, though he still felt furious enough to scream. Kingsley lowered his voice again, and said, "So far, nobody knows we have caught on, least of all the person casting this spell. They don't know we are looking for them, and if they don't know they are being watched for, it is far more likely they will slip up and get themselves caught."

"How do you plan to find them if you aren't going to tell the other aurors what to look for?" Harry scoffed.

"Unspeakables. They are trained for things like this; to detect unknown curses and trace dark magic to its source. We will have three a night trailing our aurors on their shifts to look for signs of the castor, and for possible reasons people are being cursed. You understand that this is delicate knowledge, don't you? You can't breathe a word of this to anyone-no, not even your wife, Mr. Weasley, for her own safety. Right now all you need to focus on is the paperwork. The sooner we can rule out who's been affected, the sooner we can eliminate the threat."

"Our families will be safe?" Ron asked meaningfully, and held Kingsley's gaze for a long moment.

"Unspeakables will be on guard outside auror houses to be certain nothing will harm them, Mr. Weasley. For all we know, there is only one person out there casting the spells, and they haven't gotten a handle on how to control it yet. It is imperative we get to them before they do, especially now that they've got six months ahead of us, at least."

"We'll start with the most recent cases." Harry said, relief not quite filling him completely when Kingsley left them alone with seven boxes of paperwork he had conveniently unshrunk from the pockets of his robes. They wouldn't be working with the Unspeakables for another day, and they had been instructed to finish off the boxes by the next morning in order to begin the next set. Harry had a terrible feeling about this case, and even though he and Ron tried not to comment about it too much, Harry knew they both continued to sneak glances across their desktops at the framed photographs they kept of their families. Suddenly, it didn't seem so important that he was becoming friendly with Malfoy, and Quidditch at the burrow felt like something that had happened years ago, like a distant memory from somebody else's head.

XXXXXXXXX

A week following and Harry had never been so glad to do paperwork. Two more aurors had been cursed while responding to a report of a shop being robbed in Knockturn Alley. The Unspeakables set to watch them hadn't seen anything, and couldn't report a single suspicious event from the entire day. Kingsley was so furious he nearly fired them on the spot, from what Harry heard, and he couldn't have pitied them more. Day and night he poured over files, checking and cross-checking with little to show from his efforts. Thirty Unspeakables were crammed in his and Rons office with them, and they weren't doing any better, which would normally make Harry feel relieved to not be an idiot, but instead filled him with a terrible sense of dread.

He was so worked up about the chances of being cursed that when he heard his doorbell ring unexpectedly on a Saturday morning he ran down the stairs, screamed at his kids to stay put, and threw the door open, immediately throwing a punch when he didn't immediately recognize who was standing in front of him. To be fair, he had never seen Draco Malfoy wear a baseball cap before, and the entire ordeal at work was taxing his nerves severely.

"Shit!" Harry immediately gasped when the blond doubled over, clutching a bloody nose as his son stared in horror. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, I-"

"That's nothing new, Potter." Malfoy said, groaning as he straightened up, and put a comforting hand on Scorpius's shoulder to ease the boys worry. The other was still cupped over his face, and watering eyes fixed curiously at Harry as he asked, "Is it a bad time?"

"No, uh, no, of course not." Harry said, shaking himself and forcing his wand into his pocket, guilt flooding his gut. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy, I didn't realize it was you, I just-"

"Why does everyone keep _attacking_ you?" Scorpius piped in fascinated horror beside Draco, his mouth open and his nose wrinkled in confusion. "Were you really that mean to them when you were in school?"

Harry laughed despite himself, and then froze, asking in alarm, "What did he mean by that? Who else attacked you?"

"Weasley." Draco said, "Seemed to believe I was at his door with the worst intentions, and came flying out the door in a bathrobe, waving a fire stoker at me. You won't believe the freckles on that mans legs."

"I'm sorry about that." Harry groaned, feeling more embarrassed by the second as he led the duo over the threshold. He flashed a thumbs up to the Unspeakable that Kingsley had assigned to watch the house under a dissolussionment charm farther down the yard. He was supposed to approve of all the guests that came into his home, and he didn't ever memorize the proper signal for that, so he figured a thumbs up would suffice.

"You should be; he accidentally smacked my in the elbow with it." Malfoy said with a sniff as the door shut, and he followed Harry up the stairs towards the kitchen. Harry glanced at him, and found that the man _was_ holding his arm at a delicate angle, tucked close to his body.

"Is that why your eyes are all puffy like you've been crying?" Albus asked, startling Harry as he appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't heard him at all. But he was right; Malfoy's eyes _were_ particularly red and swollen, and it wasn't just because Harry had punched him. Lily and James appeared on the stairs to flank their brother.

Harry smiled a little, able to relax now that he had determined there wasn't a threat nearby, and asked Malfoy with thinly veiled amusement, "You cried in front of Ron?"

Malfoy's face darkened and he pointedly turned up his nose, huffing, "I'll have you know that there is no shame in that, Potter, and an auror like yourself ought to have more sensitivity than-"

"Oh, so _that's_ where you get it from, Scorpius." Lily said loudly, sighing, "You _always_ put your nose up like that when you are making a point."

"I do not." Scorpius said, and put his nose up to make a point. Harry and Draco both smirked at that.

"Err, I should probably ask why you are here." Harry said, suddenly realizing he had neglected to do as much.

"No, you should _probably_ get me some _ice_ , since you just _assaulted_ me." Draco snorted, which only made a small wave of blood ripple over his fingers, which were still bent over his nose.

"Right, sorry." Harry said, shaking himself. He led Malfoy the rest of the way into the kitchen, waving the children off to go upstairs to their bedroom with Scorpius so that he and Draco could talk properly. He gestured for Draco to take a seat while he set the tea kettle on the stove and went about rummaging the fridge for something cold. He produced Lilys bear-shaped ice pack from when she was a toddler, and handed it to Malfoy, who rose an eyebrow, but pressed it against his face anyways once Harry cast a cleaning charm and an episky on his nose. It was a little crooked, but Harry didn't tell him that.

"So..." Harry began stupidly, "You got my address from Ron?"

"Scorpius wanted to get ice cream and go for a Quidditch game. I thought he might want to bring some friends along, and thought I'd stop by and ask in person, since my owl is off delivering a letter to Pansy. Should have fire-called, now I know how I'll be greeted."

"I really am sorry about that, Malfoy, I didn't expect it to be you. I've been really worried about-"

"The case you and Weasley are on?" Malfoy guessed, tipping his head to the side. He was still holding his arm in an odd position, and Harry turned back to his refrigerator to fish out a bag of frozen broccoli, handing it to the blond wordlessly. Draco settled his arm against it with a deep flush.

"How do you know about that?" Harry asked, for some reason less surprised than he thought he should have been.

"I'm a very powerful legilimens." Malfoy shrugged, and Harry rolled his eyes. Draco smiled and said, "Alright, you know thats a lie. I worked it out of Weasley after he hit me with that damned poker. I told him that if he didn't tell me what had him so worried I would tell Hermione what he did to me."

"So Ron beat you up and made you cry, and you threatened to tattle to Hermione?" Harry asked, unable to help himself. Malfoy glared at him from around the pink ice pack. "How much did Ron tell you?"

"Not much, just that he's worried someone will show up at his door and curse him into doing terrible things to his kids. Is that actually happening? Why didn't you question me at the door, then? I could be under a polyjuice potion for all you know."

"Nobody would show up at my doorstep polyjuiced as _you_." Harry scoffed, "Nobody is dumb enough to think we are friends; they'd go for somebody I'm likely to let in."

Immediately Harry realized what he had said, and clamped his mouth closed, the twinge of guilt in his stomach growing at the hurt look that flickered across Draco's eyes. _Why had he said that? He had told Draco they were friends, why would he say that?_

"I'm such an ass." Harry said with a deep breath, closing his eyes to try and center himself, "That wasn't what I meant, Malfoy. We _are_ friends, I just _-"_

 _"_ Nobody else knows that though, you meant." Draco suggested, with a note of hope in his voice that didn't escape Harrys notice. He nodded anyways, even if it wasn't completely true. Nobody really knew that they were friends, that much was true, but when he had said it he hadn't meant it the way he Malfoy had suggested. It was as if they were back in school for a moment, and it shook Harry that he had been taken back to that time with such a misplaced comment.

"Somebody is targeting the aurors and possibly their families." Harry said, hoping that would explain everything. He knew he shouldn't be telling anyone, but he felt strangely trusting of Draco. "We don't know how, but they are cursing them to do terrible things; trying to tear us apart from the inside so they can get to work on the public without the chance of being stopped. Or maybe maybe they are infiltrating the ministry."

"You haven't got a suspect yet?" Draco asked thoughtfully, and the bag on his arm crinkled loudly as he shifted. "Or any motives? Hard to catch a guy that you know nothing about."

"We know he or she is based around Diagon, just from where the attacks keep happening, but we don't know much more than that. We just know they are going after aurors, and they're not struggling to get to them."

Harry didn't mention that he had seen the pictures of what Shannon had done to her daughter and her grandchildren while under the spell; didn't think he could make himself admit that he had seen the bloody carpet, intestines thrown around the room like garland. He had been more on edge since seeing the photos of the crime scene, a little girl who looked strikingly like Lily laid out with her eyes open, gold hair a halo around her concave skull, swollen brain matter spilling between the cracks of bone that shone through her scalp. Harry shivered, and suddenly Malfoy's hand was on his, eyes wide and concerned.

"I've seen what dark magic can do to people. I've seen the way it sneaks into families, and breaks people apart. Whoever is targeting the aurors is going to target you and Ron too, you know that, don't you?"

Harry was hyperaware of it. He hadn't stopped thinking about it, laying awake to listen to the sounds of the house when he meant to be asleep. He hadn't liked the idea of only having an Unspeakable outside to protect him, when there had been three tailing the aurors a few days before who had seen nothing before they were cursed.

"The manor has a lot of extra rooms." Draco said, swallowing thickly, and his hand tightened on Harry's, "I can offer it to Ron too, to keep the kids out of harms way. Like you said, nobody suspects us to be friends, and they wouldn't look to find any of them at my place."

"Ginny can-"

"Ginny has a career too, and it would be the first place somebody would look if they went after your kids. You don't need to do it now, I'm just saying that if you ever feel you need to, you can room at mine. Even if you just drop the kids off for some peace of mind, thats fine. Just...stay safe, will you?"

Harry hadn't considered that, and the idea of having to put his kids into hiding made his stomach curl. But Malfoy was right; aurors and their families were being targeted, and as much as he hated it, he wasn't safe where he was, and his kids weren't either. He needed to talk to Ginny and to Ron first.

"Give me three days, and I'll think about it." Harry said hoarsely, barely able to speak. His head felt like it was spinning out of control. "I need to talk to them first; make sure its the best option."

"Of course. I should go; let you relax on your day off." Malfoy said, and stood quickly, levitating the ice pack and the broccoli back into the freezer. Harry sat still at the table, his head still spinning, as Draco and Scorpius apparated out of his front lawn minutes later. _What was he going to do?_


	7. Chapter 7

Convincing Ron took no work at all, after a file was unearthed to show another auror had been possibly cursed as well, in a completely different place than Diagon. From what they could tell he had been working with muggles when he started throwing curses around, and though he had been pardoned-as his behavior was so strange that nobody would argue he hadn't been cursed-it hadn't been followed up on, and there were ties with his behavior that linked him to the case at their desks. That one had happened in October, and the man hadn't been back to work since. Kingsley reported him dead in his home with his wife a half hour after they asked an auror to check up on the man. A seizure had gotten him, just like Don. The body of the wife was spotless, which pointed towards avada kedavra as the curse that took her.

Ginny didn't want to take the kids after Harry explained everything to her; worried that if Harry fell under the spell he would find them with her. Malfoy had a better arsenal of spells that he could use to protect himself and the kids, and she couldn't risk a wizard showing up to attack them. She decided it was best if they stayed at the manor. Hermione would move in with Malfoy too, and that put Harrys nerves to rest as he helped Lily pack her things away in her bag. She had been the least happy to be leaving, and Harry's heart tugged in sympathy as she packed a stuffed rabbit under her pajamas solemnly.

Ron and Hermione met him at the door with Ginny and the kids an hour before they were set to leave, and they all sat together in silence in Harrys kitchen, wondering what would happen next. It seemed scarier than the war, now that there was something threatening at their doorstep-something they couldn't see to defend themselves from.

Malfoy was appropriately morose as he showed them to their rooms, never once bragging about how large the house was compared to the burrow. He didn't even call Ron 'Weasel' to break the somber mood. He served them mini sandwiches on tiny posh plates, and urged them to have some tea to settle their nerves, but was otherwise unable to make things feel normal. Harry didn't know what to say, all words failing him as he stooped in front of his three children, who hadn't been given explanations about anything that was going on. Harry hadn't even told Kingsley he had moved the kids to Malfoy's, on the off chance that news would spread.

When Harry apparated back to his empty house he felt more alone than he had in ages. The emptiness truly struck him when he went to his bedroom, and found that Lily had left a small stuffed bear behind on his pillow, and that Albus had set a snitch on his bedside table. He didn't fall asleep any easier when the cotton ear of the bear was pressed to his cheek, or the humming of the snitch's wings was filling the room with a pleasant white noise.

Work seemed harder, and even though there was four days with no news to report, he felt as if the stakes had raised. The novelty of having the house to himself had worn off of Ron, who looked miserable as his finger traced the edge of a picture frame that held his family, smiling and waving happily at him from the backyard of the burrow. Hermione sometimes sent coffee to their desks from Malfoy's house with a spell, and usually it was on their desks by the morning before they went into the office.

"Never thought I'd miss the sound of Rose and Hugo fighting over the last of the cereal." Ron sighed as he and Harry sat together during lunch, the Unspeakables finally gone off for their own break. Their name fit them, and none of them were known to speak more than a few words at a time, as far as Harry knew. He kept a tally on a memo pad of every word they said collectively during a day, and the number never passed forty five.

Harry was used to having a silent house, but it still burned a little when he called his children down for breakfast, only to remember they were gone. He was going to hate it when they were old enough to move out. "Are you going to see them this weekend? Malfoy is going to cook for us with Hermione and Scorpius."

"Cooking." Ron scoffed, his eyes darkening, "Is that what they call it now?"

Once he had said it, he looked just as surprised as Harry did, and he frowned, shaking his head and saying, "I must be tired, mate, if I think 'Mione would think to do anything with that ferret."

His tone bordered on bitter still, but Harry sympathized. He had been feeling agitated lately too, and over the smallest things. Kingsley was acting similarly, and Harry figured they were all strung out from the stress. He tried to enjoy their lunch break, and leaned back in his seat, but before he could truly settle in the loud speaker burst to life over the auror department, and his grip slipped from around the foam coffee cup. It was mostly cool by then, which Harry was grateful for, but he couldn't help cursing at the large wet stain on the chest and stomach of his auror robes.

"Forget it, mate, listen to this!" Ron said, waving impatiently at Harry to shut up, which he did, bitterly, for all but half a second before the words of the report came through. An auror had just subdued an Unspeakable in the canteen, and alarms were being set off all through the ministry. People were being told to stay put, and to avoid leaving their offices, until the situation was attended to. The alarms only lasted for ten minutes, and then were dismissed. Kingsley apparated directly into their office following it.

"They're toying with us now." He said, his face hard and angry. "The Unspeakable was guarding the house of an aurors today. He cursed two passerbys before he apparated back here, and tried to do more damage. They know we are onto them, thats why they went after him. They want it in the papers; want us to look like the ministry is falling in on itself."

"Isn't it, though?" Harry asked, his nerves on fire, "We can't protect anyone, not really, if we don't know what it is we're facing! We put our kids in hiding, Kingsley! If we can't protect people from this, who can? What are we going to do when they stop targeting aurors and go after people who have no defenses? We haven't got the slightest of leads on this thing!"

"We are going to take a new approach. Right now, we want you out of the Ministry, just to be safe. Go home, relax, try to stay out of sight. There will be a lot of media about this, and we can't afford to make it look like you two were anywhere near involved in it, even if it's just paperwork."

Harry didn't argue, his stomach twisting so violently with worry that he barely let Ron finish his coffee before he had grabbed his sleeve and apparated them both into Grimmuald place. Ron coughed as the dust they stirred, but Harry turned to look at him sharply, and said, "It's an inside job. It's somebody in the ministry that is cursing the aurors, how else would they get to the Unspeakables in the ministry?"

"That's why he doesn't want us there." Ron said, realization dawning. "Doesn't want us getting cursed. Could be one of the Unspeakables thats been camped in the office with us lately."

"We stay here until the weekend, then we can go and see Malfoy and the kids-"

"And Hermione."

"And Hermione."Harry agreed. "But for now we just need to stay where we are. There is no since apparating here and there and risking somebody finding out we've gone to Malfoys. We just need to lay low for a few days, and let some of the dust settle."

"Speaking of dust, think you could apparate us somewhere cleaner in the house next time?" Ron coughed again, and Harry set his mouth in a thin line.

"I'm working on it." Harry said stiffly.

"Oh, he's working on it, he says." Ron scoffed, as they headed into the hall, "That's why I'm close to suffocating over here, is it?"

"Grab a rag." Harry said, "And you can help me clean while we are stuck here. It will help us to stop thinking about whats been going on lately."

Somehow, being in the house set his nerves right, and he and Ron were slowly feeling back to normal, their anger dissipating slowly as they made their way through the second floor of the with dust rags and polishing charms. Mrs. Blacks portrait was the only thing that made a sound for the first days, and it had become easier to drown out her screaming once he learned how to ignore her. She couldn't say too much about him anyways, as he had grown a thick skin, and her comments bounced off of him like rubber balls. Ron was getting better at tuning her out too, when she wasn't calling after him to attack his wife, screaming about mudblood scum. He had managed to do a neat little curse that kept her silent for almost four hours after lunch on the third day, and they didn't pay her much attention as they began working to clean the drawing room. There wasn't much there once they cleared out the doxies from behind the curtains-they had been surprised by them when Ron had opened the window to let in a bit of light, and inadvertently set a swarm of them flying through the room. Harry hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, watching his friend shout and throw his arms over his head for cover, and his sides ached as they finished hexing the last of them. He felt oddly relaxed, and he figured his kids would be safe for another day and a half in Malfoys care.

He and Ron flooed into Malfoys house an hour early when the weekend finally arrived, unable to stop themselves, and had scared the blond so badly he had dropped his wand and slipped behind the couch. Harry rounded the back of it and sheepishly helped him to his feet, saying awkwardly, "Sorry, we didn't have an owl or we would have warned you."

Malfoy glared, but his face softened when Ron asked desperately, "Where are the kids?"

"Rose went with Hermione and James to walk through the gardens. They'll be back for lunch, but Granger is pissed off at me and insisted she take a time out." Malfoy said with a soft smile.

"You fought with her already?" Harry asked, shaking his head with a smile. He wasn't sure why he was so glad to see Malfoy, but his heart was fluttering in his chest and he felt all too hot all of a sudden.

"Sort of. She doesn't like that I have house elves, and I'm not willing to give them up."

"That's 'Mione for you." Ron said fondly, a smile growing across his face. "Is Hugo around?"

"He'll be with the others in the kitchens. They wanted to make a cake, if I remember correctly. Its just down the hall and to your right."

Ron didn't answer, but immediately moved in that direction, half-running to see his son. Harry felt glued to the spot, and awkward, as he realized he was alone with Malfoy. He didn't know what he was supposed to say.

"How's the case coming along, then?" Malfoy asked, seeming just as awkward as Harry felt. Well, that helped his nerves a little, at least.

"It's not." Harry said, "We got dismissed from it. I guess its too much of a risk to keep us around. They don't want us getting cursed."

"Is it something to do with yesterdays Prophet?" Malfoy asked, tipping his head to the side to study Harry curiously. "An Unspeakable supposedly went berserk in the ministry and started cursing at a wizard who runs the records department."

"Is that what happened? I only heard he started firing curses, and then they put us on lockdown. We got sent off right after that." Harry said, and felt the anxiety twisting in his chest again. It had been nice to not think about the case for the past few days, and bringing it up again brought the fear back into his heart with a sharp edge. "We think it's got to be an inside job, if they can get into the ministry like that."

"Or maybe the Unspeakable wasn't effected at all, and rather went after someone he thought was responsible for the curses." Malfoy said, looking thoughtful.

"We would know if that was the case." Harry said, shaking his head. A flicker of movement caught his eye behind Draco, and suddenly he spotted Albus standing in the doorway, grinning broadly. He had almost forgotten that he ought to see his children, and wondered where his head had gone. Since when did Malfoy distract him so easily?

XXXXXXXXXX

The day went well, dinner flew by, and before Harry knew it they were back at Grimmuald place, stung with loss. Seeing his kids again had filled him with such an intense happiness that the moment he left Malfoys manor he felt his mood crash dramatically back down. Ron was in the same boat, moaning about how he wished he could just stay an hour longer to see the kids. Harry wasn't sure why they couldn't, but Malfoy insisted that they needed to be somewhere Kingsley could reach them, as he wouldn't know they were with Draco, and it wasn't safe to tell him where the kids were hidden quite yet.

They went without news for almost two weeks before Kinsleys head appeared in the fireplace, startling them in the middle of having breakfast. The news was good, in a way. They were back to work, it seemed, and there hadn't been a single new attack on anyone. There wasn't a sign that any more would come, and investigation had been put on pause once a witch came forward and confessed with glassy eyes that she had been inventing new curses and hadn't meant to cause so much damage. The auror department had rejoiced, and she had been locked up in a cell, a trial set for that week, but Harry felt as if something was off.

Why had she confessed? It didn't make sense. She was an eighty year old woman who worked in a robe shop, and had never stepped a toe out of line before. What worried him more was that she didn't seem to have a single notion of regret, and her knobby face was impassive as she was led in and out of interrogation rooms. Ron looked uncomfortable as well, but Kingsley seemed all too glad to put the case to rest, telling them sternly that, "She works right in Diagon, her grandfather was an auror who taught her tricks, and she was confirmed by the Unspeakables to have been in the area during each attack. Frankly, we should be glad there wasn't something more sinister at hand."

"People died, Kingsley." Harry blurted, gobsmacked at his blasé explanation. All of his worry and sympathy had been washed away, and it sent off alarm bells in Harry's head.

"And there will be a trial over it, as you well know, but it's time we get back to work. The department has been in a panic since this got out, and I need you to be here in order to set an example for how to continue."

"What about the Unspeakable who was cursed in the ministry?" Ron asked darkly, narrowing his eyes, "You think she managed to sneak in through security and curse him just for the fun of it? She's eighty, and she couldn't have left the scene without being noticed."

"She was here to tailor the new auror robes, actually." Kingsley said, "We hired fourteen more people, and the robes needed some work. It wasn't unusual that she was here. She confessed that she hadn't known what her spell did until she saw it that day, and she was so horrified she went straight to her shop and didn't return until she came here to confess. Guilt was eating her alive, I reckon."

"Why didn't anyone notice her sooner?"

"They were looking for a hardened criminal, Mr. Weasley, not a little old woman who thought she was innocently inventing up spells. You should be happy, the two of you! Its solved, isn't it?"

"Thats the question, sir." Harry said levelly, to which Kingsley frowned at him. It didn't add up. All of that worry over something so simple? No, there had to be more to it. That couldn't be the solution.

"Get some rest." Kingsley finally sighed, "It's been a rough few weeks, for all of us, but it's time to get back to work now, and we can finally relax. Your wife sent congratulatory coffee through the floo, go on and enjoy it, would you?"

Harry and Ron were silent when they went into their office. There was a fine layer of dust and there paperwork was still spread out where they had left it, but Harry couldn't relax. Ron asked with a hard swallow, "You think there is something off about this too, don't you?"

"It feels wrong." Harry admitted, sitting slowly behind his desk. His skin felt like it was crawling, and he turned over the case file that was on his desk. He admitted carefully, "I think we should keep the kids at Malfoy's for another week, just to be safe."

"I was thinking the same thing." Ron nodded, and offered Harry a weak smile, "Is it wrong that I hope it wasn't the old woman? It would make things easier, but I don't like the idea of somebody doing that with magic accidentally. It makes you wonder what sort of things you could create if you were really trying to do some damage, you know?"

"I think-"

There was a knock at the door that cut him off, and a gruff voice called out, "Henderson, from Records. I've been sent to collect the case files for the accidental spell case."

Harry didn't think about it. He picked up his wand and shrunk the four closest boxes to his desk, accioed them quickly, and stuffed them into his pocket, all before Ron answered the man with a tired, "Come in!"

Harry ignored his curious look as the man accioed the remaining boxes onto a cart. Harry had to clap a hand over his pocket when the ones he had taken tried to follow, but the man didn't notice, and left them alone in silence, the door shutting with a soft thud behind him as he headed with his rattling cart down the hall. Ron gave him another look, and then set his jaw, resolving not to say a word about the fact that Harry had just stolen confidential files. He was a good friend, Harry thought.

XXXXXXXXX

There wasn't much in the paperwork, and Harry had it spread all through his house as he checked it over and over again, absorbing every detail. There had to be something he was missing. He could feel it, down into his bones, and when he couldn't make up a single theory as to what the truth was he grew frustrated, and very nearly incendio'd an entire box of paperwork. He missed and set fire to his curtains instead. He and Ron hardly talked at work anymore, and Harry felt less like himself than he ever had before. There was something very wrong and it wasn't just with the case. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew he needed to figure out what was going on, and soon.

When he went to pick up the kids from Malfoys there was no question that something was wrong. He felt excitement spark in his chest as seeing them, but he felt lost at how to express it, which brought frustration so bad that he ended up snapping at Albus when he had asked Harry for the third time if he was sure he didn't want to play Quidditch with him before they left for home. Ron had a similar issue, and a sense of dread crept into Harrys gut when the redhead didn't return Hermione's hug as enthusiastically he was expected to. He put it off to them being stressed about work.

"Are you alright, Potter?" Malfoy asked him before he left, catching his elbow as he headed after his kids towards the floo.

"I'd be better if you would all stop trying to babysit me." Harry snapped, and Malfoy immediately released his arm, looking startled. Harry blinked in surprise at himself. _Where the fuck had that come from?_

 _"_ I was only making sure." Malfoy said, taking a step away from Harry, who was alarmed that he felt the heat of a wand in his hand. He didn't even remember reaching for it, but he was overcome with the urge to hex Draco, and felt his fingers twitch with the need to do it. Draco noticed, and asked with a frown, looking distinctly hurt, "Have I done something?"

"No." Harry said, shaking himself. He didn't know what was wrong with him, and he pushed the growing anger down to force a smile, explaining difficultly, "I'm tired, that's all. Been on my guard for weeks, and I suppose it's starting to take a toll on me."

"Oh. I-okay. I'll still see you at the Weasley brunch in two days, right?"

"Yeah." Harry said, and felt himself relax marginally, "I'll see you then."

He disappeared into the floo with too many thoughts in his head to keep track of. Maybe he was just tired, he reasoned.

XXXXXXXXX

Things were not getting better. He was more snappish, and his kids had started to notice. They had holed up in their rooms by the time lunch rolled around, and Harry couldn't remember what they had done to make him so angry, but he knew Lily had stomped up the stairs with red cheeks and tears streaming down her face, and James had followed her with a look of anger. Albus had remained an hour longer, quietly hovering beside Harry as he struggled to focus on the stolen case files, but it seemed that even his middle son could sense his tension, and had retreated up the stairs after his siblings without a word.

Harry didn't expect he would see them again until dinner, and sighed miserably to himself as he blinked at the parchment that had been sat in front of him for ten minutes. He hadn't been able to read a single word he felt so off balance, like his body had a terrible electric energy swirling inside of it. W _hat was wrong with him?_

Even his dreams couldn't comfort him, and he woke in the middle of the night the day of the burrow dinner in a sweat, his breathing ragged and hard. His wand was burning in his hand, and he felt a wave of magic coursing down his arm. The lampshade on his bedside table was shredded from a curse he couldn't remember casting. He had to work to make his hand relax around the wand, and his fingers ached when he uncurled them and let the instrument fall onto the mattress. He couldn't tell what had worried him more; his dream, or the fact that he had obliterated his lamp without waking up. He rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands, and felt his pulse slow until it was somewhere near being normal. He had dreamed that all of his children had been cut open in the living room, split apart and bleeding, and his wand had trembled in his hand. He had been horrified, internally, but a perverse sense of pleasure had crawled up between his lungs and made a space for itself, and it made Harry sick to recall it. He didn't go back to sleep after that, and instead sat in his bed, shaking and afraid, with a box of files sitting on the floor beside him. It had to be the case that had him so worked up. He kicked the box under the bed and tried not to think about it. That would help.

He wished he had gone back to sleep hours later, when everyone was awake and clamoring to get ready for dinner at the burrow. His eyes felt heavy in his skull, and his heart felt like lead in his chest every time one of his kids sent him a nervous glance. whatever he had said yesterday seemed to have really put them off to his company, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what exactly had happened. Maybe he should forget the case, and start working on the new stuff Kingsley had assigned them instead. Albus tugged his sleeve midway through the thought, and asked, "Ready, dad?"

"Ready." Harry lied, biting down a waspish comment that had tried to come out with it. _He was tired and overworked, that was all._

Authors Note:  Alright, so we are almost caught up to where we were! If this chapter is confusing feel free to message me or if you find any errors feel free to let me know! Feel free to review! Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

He arrived at the burrow with Albus, James, and Lily, and had immediately locked himself in the bathroom at seeing Malfoy by the fireplace with Scorpius. He felt like he had swallowed a mouthful of pixies, and he wanted to be sick. He didn't know where the sudden urge to vomit had come from, but it hit him like a bludger. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, leaning against the sink and staring hard at his reflection in the Weasleys mirror. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his face looked long and exhausted. Maybe he should just go home. No, he knew he couldn't. He hadn't seen Molly and Arthur properly in what felt like ages, and he knew if he left they would only be offended. Plus, the kids were already wary around him, and he figured they would do best to hang around with their friends for the afternoon. Maybe Harry would feel better after they ate.

"Oh!"

He had tripped over his own feet on the way out of the bathroom, and stumbled directly into Draco Malfoy's chest. The blond frowned and helped him to get his balance back, and Harry felt a calmness wash over him, feeling anchored by the warm hands on his shoulders. But then they were gone, and the bitterness was back, and he couldn't explain it at all but for a moment he had felt okay again. Malfoy was staring at him with that concerned, expectant look of his, and Harry realized that he was supposed to say something, perhaps apologize for nearly bowling the blond over. He opened his mouth, but what came out was instead, "Merlin, Malfoy, you've certainly got a thing for putting your hands on me without permission, haven't you?"

Draco looked startled by the venomous tone, and jumped back, grey eyes wide as he huffed, " _You_ fell into _me_ , Potter! It's not like I _wanted_ to put my hands on you!"

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't!" Harry snorted, in a voice that was not his own, "Out of the two of us, which one is gay, again?"

Draco looked stung, and Harry would have given anything to apologize for it, but the words were glued together in his throat, and instead he snorted, "Disgusting, really. Can't keep your hands to yourself for a second, can you?"

"If this is some sort of joke, Potter, it isn't a funny one." Malfoy said, and though his face was hard and angry, his voice was quiet and rounded, and betrayed the hurt he must have felt from the comment. Harrys vision faded, and static filled his ears for a moment as his heart flooded with empathy, but the moment passed quickly, and he felt his mouth moving, but he didn't know what it was saying.

All he knew was that Draco's face had gone pink, then pale, then red, and his eyes had come close to overflowing with tears. _What had he just said?_

"Harry!" George called, heading down the hall from behind Malfoy, a grimace on his face, "Hey, mate, have you got any idea what's going on with Ron? He's just had a row with Hermione and mum, and I can't get a word of explanation out of him. Has he said anything to you?"

Harry was sure he was missing something with that statement; was certain something huge was buried in his mind; some revelation that was bursting to get out but couldn't manage. His mouth was hanging open, and he couldn't figure out what he was trying to say. It was as if he wasn't in control of his own body anymore. He didn't get a chance to answer anyways, though, because George had noticed Malfoy and had asked gently, his face softening, "Hey, you okay, Malfoy? Ron didn't whack you with a fire poker again, did he?"

"It's nothing." Draco said quickly, and his voice was so soft and vulnerable that Harry's heart shattered in his chest, but he couldn't make himself say anything because he s _till_ couldn't figure out what he was supposed to say, or how he could make his mouth work if he did. Fuck, he really liked Malfoy, and here he had just ruined everything, and he was _still_ standing there like an _idiot_ just _staring_ at Malfoy who looked like he was trying increasingly hard to look like he wasn't effected by what Harry had said. He was failing, though. Draco _was_ hurt by Harry's comments, and they could all tell, but nobody knew how to say anything that would close the wound. Draco swallowed and looked at the floor, saying gently, "I should have just stayed out of your life. I won't bother you anymore."

Draco walked away back to the kitchen, and Harry stayed in the hall outside the bathroom, staring after him with words caught in his throat. George didn't say a word, and quickly spun around to follow Malfoy, supposedly to try and work out why he was so close to tears. Harry swallowed, head still buzzing, and nervously made his way to the sitting room, where all the Weasley's were now gathered. Draco and Hermione were out of sight, but he tried not to let it bother him too much. He would find Malfoy later and talk to him when he didn't have a lump in his throat and the back of his eyes didn't sting. Ron was arguing quietly with George in the doorway to the sitting room, and everything felt like it was underwater to Harry, who had gone numb and cold, doing his best to repress the anger in his chest that just wouldn't go away.

The rest of the group was talking about Quidditch, and the kids were out in the backyard practicing their skills with Oliver Wood-who had started dating Ginny when they met at a training camp for their respective teams. Harry wanted to feel happy for her, but couldn't remember what that emotion felt like _._ His vision blurred as he tried to recall it, and suddenly he couldn't remember anything that had happened over the last hour; only that he had seen Malfoy, managed to upset him, and that no they were avoiding each other. He wasn't sure what was going on, or why he felt like something was distinctly wrong, but he figured it would be worked out later. It was as if a wave had passed.

 _XXXXXXXXX_

Malfoy didn't play Quidditch when offered, and he had been so set against sitting near Harry that he had actually wedged himself between Ron and Hermione-which would have been funny if Harry hadn't noticed how puffy and red Malfoy's eyes looked-and he absolutely refused to look in Harry's direction. _What had he done to upset him so much?_ It must have been bad, if even Scorpius was annoyed with Harry, and though he sat next to him at the elongated table in the kitchen, he didn't say a word to him. Nobody else seemed to sense the tension between them besides Hermione, who kept a hand on Malfoy's knee through the entire meal that had Ron looking concerned and horrified in turn when he noticed. Molly noticed Malfoy's dejected expression early on, and asked him in alarm, making everything more awkward, "Draco, dear, did something happen? You look like you've been crying, love."

"It's only allergies Mrs. Weasley." Draco assured her with a false smile. Harry pretended he didn't notice Scorpius glaring daggers at him. He looked at Hermione instead, and noticed that she looked just as upset as Malfoy, though she was far better at hiding it.

"Yes," Molly mused with a frown, "It's about that season, isn't it?"

Dinner went down much of that same vein, with Draco giving short answers to questions, and Harry trying to remember what he had done that was so bad. He didn't think it would be wise to ask. They were nearly finished when Ron had had enough of Hermione's and Malfoy's closeness and said sharply, "I don't know about how you lot feel, but if a certain Gryffindor doesn't move her hands away from another mans nether regions, a ferret will lose its bollocks."

Ginny and Hermione both clapped their hands down on top of the table, one far more red-faced than the other, and Oliver Wood looked horrifyingly pink in alarm, where Malfoy looked startled and confused. Molly frowned and said, "Just what is going on here, then?"

"Just a bit of fondling under the table, mum, but don't worry, I'm sure it was a mistake, right Hermione?"

Ginny looked relieved, and Hermiones mouth popped open in shock as she cried, "Ronald! That's not what-"

"You think I wouldn't notice? I'm sitting literally right beside you, it was sort of hard to miss!"

"Weasley that's not-" Draco started, but Ron tore his wand out and pointed it directly at Draco's jugular, a silent warning that he would murrder him if he said another word. Hermione's hands clapped over her mouth in horror, her eyes filled with tears. The buzzing was back in Harrys head.

"What is wrong with you lately? If you think I would do that to you-and in front of the kids? Ron, I would never-"

"Shut up." Ron growled, "And here I was, thinking Malfoy was as bent as circle while you felt him up under the table! I should have known that was false as soon as he said it-everyone knows how Fenrir Grayback used to feel him up that same way! Used imperius to get Malfoy to do what he wanted. To think he would still be gay after that, who was he kidding?"

"Dad?" Scorpius asked, a look of devastation on his face. Harry's heart had collapsed into his chest and he felt sick. He hadn't known that, but there was no questioning the validity of Rons accusation when he got a look at Draco's face. He looked as if his entire world had just fallen apart in front of him.

"RON!" Hermione screamed, and Harry had never seen her look so upset before.

"Bombarda!" Draco snarled, without touching his wand, and Ron and his chair flew back into the china cabinet, plates and glass breaking across the floor. "Come on, Scorpius, we're leaving."

"Yeah, run then, Malfoy, just like you've always been known to do!" Ron shouted after him, without moving from the floor. Hermione was leading the kids out of the room with Molly, tears streaming down her face as Harry stood, trying to catch Malfoy's eye. Something about seeing Malfoy look so horrified had shaken something loose in Harry. Ron continued shouting, tears of his own leaving streaks along his cheeks, "Maybe we'll get lucky and you'll go the same way your wife did!"

Ron didn't even have a chance to brace himself. Harry didn't know where it had come from, but a protective surge had flared in his chest, and he was suddenly spitting a curse he had promised himself he would never use, a clear and crisp "Crucio!" flying from his mouth before he knew what he had said.

He hadn't meant to do it, but it didn't matter. his wand had moved on its own, his mouth had opened without his permission, and a spell was being shot out the end of his wand. He tried to pull it back at the last second, and managed to jerk it away from Ron, but instead directed the spell towards Draco-Only it didn't hit Draco. It hit Scorpius.


	9. Chapter 9

It had happened so fast that Harry wasn't even sure what he had done. All he knew was that his spell had found its target in Scorpius Malfoy, and the boy had dropped instantly to the ground, head tipped back as a scream ripped itself from his throat. His fingers were curled like claws, wildly scratching the hardwood floor for purchase. His spine curved so dramatically that it reminded Harry horrifyingly of an exorcism. Draco was shouting, screaming at Harry and kneeling beside Scorpius, sobbing over him as the spell cut off, and the boys body went slack, his eyes closing and his hands relaxing as his consciousness bled out of him. Harry was staring in shock, and his blood thrummed in his ears as his vision cleared. It hit him like a bludger what he had just done.

 _Holy fuck._ He had just used an unforgivable on a twelve year old boy. His wand felt like a brick in his hand, heavy and rough, and his throat closed almost entirely as the scene washed over him violently. Ron was still sitting in the broken glass, all traces of anger gone, his face pale and his eyes round with shock. He panted raggedly, as if he had never spoken before, " _Harry."_

He barely heard him. He was far too invested in Scorpius and Draco. The boy had gasped awake, coughing and sucking in air like he had been jostled out of a nightmare. His knuckled were white and his hand gripped Draco's like it was a lifeline, his tiny voice choking out, "Dad!"

"Oh, thank Merlin, I thought you were dead!" Draco sobbed, crushing his son to his chest, "Oh, God, Scorp, thank Merlin you're okay! Tell me where it hurts, please tell me there isn't any permanent damage!"

Harrys wand slipped out of his hand, and clattered on the floor. He had done that. He could have killed Scorpius if he hadn't been able to harness control like he had. He vaguely remembered the feeling of the spell rushing through him, the anger igniting in his bones, the white-hot burn of magic flooding through his wand. _He had done this._ He wasn't sure how he managed to keep from falling to his knees from the weight of the realization.

He didn't hear it when Hermione burst through the doorway, and barely registered it when she flew to Draco's side, kneeling down beside him, her hand cradling Scorpius's head tenderly. She said shakily, not that Harry heard her, "He hit his head when he fell, he probably has a concussion. We should get him to St. Mungos. Merlin, what the hell happened?"

"Potter and Weasley." Draco rasped, looking up at them through his bangs with a horrifyingly betrayed look, "They were fighting. Potter used crucio."

"Harry!" Hermione cried, her horror so clear and raw that Harry felt bile rising in his throat. "How could you?!"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the words stuck like glue to the back of his throat. He didn't know. He didn't have an answer for her. He couldn't recall deciding to say the spell; all he could remember was the feeling of doing it. He shook his head, tears blurring his vision as the urge to vomit became worse.

"He needs to go to St. Mungos." Hermione said determinedly, her mouth snapping closed and pressing into a thin line. She didn't look at Harry when she said it. "tell me exactly what happened, Draco."

"It was so sudden, I don't...It wasn't meant for Scorpius, I don't think. It was like he didn't mean to say it, like it just fell out of his mouth almost, but you have to mean it with that sort of curse, don't you? It was like it wasn't him, it was like he was-" Draco stopped, and his head whippped back around to Harry, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. He said slowly, his voice hollow and haunted, "It was like he was cursed. Like they both were."

It took Harry several seconds to register exactly what Malfoy was saying. Ron caught on first, saying shakily, "The case. You think we are under the same curse as those other aurors."

"I think you _were."_ Malfoy said slowly, his face flipping through emotions like they were pages a scrapbook. "I think you shook it off, maybe. Potter was directing the spell at you; he shouldn't have been able to jerk it away at the last second if he was being controlled. How did we not notice? You've been acting so different these past few days, the both of you."

"Oh God." Hermione whispered, her hand over her mouth as tears filled her eyes, "They've been under a spell this whole time. No wonder Ron's been so awful, and Harry's been so snappy."

Draco looked sharply at Ron, and said in horror, voice hoarse and raw, "That's how you knew about...what happened with Fenrir. Whoever is casting the spell knows about it, and somehow triggered you to say that. That's the only way you could have known."

"Dad." Scorpius repeated, his eyes heavy and sleepy as he moved further into his fathers arms. Harry's head was spinning. He was both relieved and horrified. His heart had swelled with relief at realizing he hadn't cast the spell, at least not consciously. The feeling was quickly replaced when he realized that it could have happened sooner; the spell could have hit him harder before. He was alone with his children while he was under the spell. If it had been stronger...he didn't want to think about that. He swallowed the heat that rose up his throat forcefully. Ron didn't. He turned his face away and was violently sick on the floor and over the broken glass that still surrounded him.

"St. Mungos, all of us." Hermione said decisively, as Draco picked Scorpius up in his arms, holding him as if he was afraid the boy would break if he so much as breathed the wrong way. "The kids can stay here with Ginny and Molly."

XXXXXXXXX

St. Mungos was miraculously empty of patients, and they were all able to secure rooms quickly. Harry was alone while Hermione and Ron sat bent together in a room across the hall, and Scorpius and Draco were a bit farther off. Harry felt sick to his stomach as mediwitches passed in and out through the door, casting spells in an attempt to diagnose what he had been cursed with. Harry held little hope for them finding what it was; they hadn't been able to determine what had hit the others before him, after all. He kept expecting that an auror would come in to take him to azkaban for cursing Scorpius, but one never came. He couldn't determine how he should feel, caught in an odd limbo between guilt and relief that things hadn't gotten worse.

He had been sitting in silence for the better part of half an hour when the curtains of his room separated again, and Draco Malfoy stepped through, looking older than he ever had before, every crease of his face defined by his exhaustion and worry. He was sure he didn't look any better himself. He pulled up the wooden chair that was beside the window and sat beside Harry with his arms folded on top of the thin hospital mattress, studying him for a long moment. Harry spoke first, swallowing hard and whispering, not trusting himself to speak aloud, "I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I would never have-"

"I know." Draco whispered, swallowing and twisting his fingers together uncomfortably. "I know what it's like to do terrible things against your will."

The dark mark was peeking out from beneath his sleeve, but Harry had a feeling that wasn't what he meant, and waited patiently for Malfoy to clarify. He didn't have to wait long, and the blond said shakily, "I, uh, I guess you probably want to know what happened with Fenrir, then. I already told Scorpius, and I'm giving him some time to let it set in, but he thinks I need to tell you."

"How is he?" Harry broke in, centered on the boys name. He still felt off balance, but he could focus well enough to catch snips of what Malfoy was saying, and the name rang in his head like a church bell. "Scorpius, I mean, not Fenrir. I know he's dead."

"Scorpius is doing well. His head is fine, too, luckily. Nobody knows you cursed him. He, uh, he sort of said that he heard about the spell in Knockturn Alley, and that he decided to test it out without knowing what it meant. Being my kid, nobody seems to be too suspicious of his story."

"You should have told them." Harry snapped, the residual anger that had laced his chest beginning to seep through again. "I cursed your son, Malfoy, I don't need you protecting me."

"Believe me, Potter, that's far from what I planned on doing. I was ready to apparate to Azkaban myself and engrave your name above a cell, but Scorpius put my head on straight again before I could manage it. He's going to be discharged as soon as they get the paperwork completed, no harm done, really."

"I'll figure out who did this, Malfoy." Harry told the blond earnestly, his hand reaching out on its own to close over Draco's.

"I should hope so." Draco nodded, and slowly pulled away. For some reason it stung to know that he wasn't at ease with Harry, and he had a sudden urge to ask him what he had said in the hall that had made him so upset, but he was also afraid to find out. Draco stood slowly, awkwardly put his hands into his pockets, and said, "Well, I should go check on Weasley, see how he's faring after everything."

"You'll stop by with Scorpius before you leave, won't you? I should apologize to him properly."

"Yeah, I'll bring him by. You've got a mediwitch on the way down, though, so I ought to step out."

Indeed, a few seconds after Draco disappeared behind the curtain a tall ginger witch stepped into the room with a severe look and a clipboard clutched close to her chest. She looked to be Harrys age, with little grey hairs twisting up into her tight bun. He was so caught up in analyzing her, as he often did thanks to his auror training, that he nearly didn't hear her when she said with a lilting cockney accent, "We've done all of the testing that we can to test you claim about being cursed, Mr. Potter, and you are, in fact, not under any spells at the moment, nor have you been for at least the last week as far as we can tell."

His heart stuttered, and a strangled sound squeezed out through his throat, as he demanded sharply, "What?"

"To be honest, we aren't quite sure why you and Mister Weasley are here at all. You have had normal behavior, and there is not a trace of anything abnormal about you in the least." She said, her lipsticked mouth curving into a deep frown.

"No, I'm sure I've been cursed. Try the tests again, there is no way I'm not under something dark, not with all thats happened!" Harry protested, but she seemed firm in her diagnosis, and sighed heavily.

"Mister Potter, there is nothing more we can do for you tonight. I have your discharge paperwork here, if you'd just sign on the line, and I can have my supervisor sign you out within the hour. There is no sign of a curse, or any foul play at all. I understand that you said your behavior has taken a turn, but all I can recommend for you is to see a psychiatrist and to get some mood potions. This has happened with aurors before, Mister Potter, where the stress of the job triggers odd symptoms and personality changes. I can contact your employer and suggest you take a week off until you're in your right mind, but I'm afraid thats the best I can offer you."

It didn't make sense. He was sure there was something else going on; that he hadn't acted on his own to curse Scorpius Malfoy. He felt the same anger as before stirring in his gut and he forced it down. It wouldn't do well to lose his temper like that again. He would work to control it, lest he cursed someone again. He signed the paperwork a tad more violently than he intended to, the ink smearing as his hand viciously trailed across it. The mediwitch pursed her lips in disapproval, but left without a word.

After a moment sorting through his thoughts, he pushed himself out of the bed and walked out into the hall, then into Ron's room. Hermione was holding Rons hands and looking anxious, and Draco was standing at the end of the bed with a scowl when he got there. Harry paused in the doorway, certain he had interrupted something, and Draco turned to look at him with a frown, saying, "What does he mean you two haven't been cursed? I thought you said that you had been under a spell."

"We are-we were. I mean, we _thought_ we were." Harry said, his heartbeat quickening, "They've run every test they know, there is no trace of any magic on us. It doesn't make sense, I know, but-"

"Then how the _fuck_ did Weasley hear about Fenrir?" Draco snarled, a darkness in his eyes that made Harrys stomach curl. Ron had a guilty look painted on his face, and Draco caught it a second before he managed to wipe it away. The blond paled, and took a step back, pain coloring his eyes as he said slowly, his voice tight, "That's why you were nice to me. I should have known you wouldn't be that accepting otherwise!"

"What is he talking about?" Harry asked with a frown, looking between Ron and Hermione in alarm. Hermione looked just as confused as Harry.

"You bloody spied on me, didn't you?" Draco hissed, shaking with fury as he glowered at Ron. "You went into my files! You've only acted like my friend because you've pitied me-this whole time!"

"That's not true, Malfoy, you know its not!" Ron said immediately, ,sitting up straighter on the bed, his eyes wide, "I didn't mean to snoop, it just happened! I was replacing a file for Currier in the vaults downstairs, and your name caught my eye when I was flipping through. I shouldn't have gotten into it, but I knew you were going to be visiting the burrow the next day and I couldn't help myself!"

"What was in that file was personal and private, Weasley!" Draco growled, and though he tried to maintain a look of extreme anger, Harry could see the look of panic on his face, pain leaking through again. He was sure the others saw it too.

"Ron, what did you-"

"Don't you say a word, Weasley! It's nobody else's business what was in it, least of all yours!"

"I didn't mean to!" Ron cried, "I didn't plan on finding it, it just happened! It looked like a criminal file, Malfoy, what was I supposed to do? You were a death eater, I wasn't about to risk inviting you into my house if I didn't know what you were capable of! I was protecting my family!"

"You were being a nosy and insensitive prat, not that it's anything new!"

"I didn't know!" Ron insisted, shaking his head wildly.

"And you were never going to, either! Nobody was supposed to know, and thanks to you I had to tell my son! Do you have any idea how hard that is? I'm supposed to be the one protecting him, how do you think it feels for me to tell him that I couldn't even protect myself!"

"It was years ago, you're overreacting!"

"Oh," Malfoy hissed scathingly, "Well, I hate to inform you, Weasley, but you actually don't have any say about how I should feel about being groped by some disgusting werewolf when I was sixteen! You don't get to assign me a grieving period, you don't get to tell me when I should feel better, and you certainly don't get to tell everyone I know that I was his fuck toy for the better part of two years! You don't have the bloody right, so don't speak to me like I'm the one being unreasonable!"

"I didn't know!" Ron backpedaled, as Harry and Hermione gaped at Malfoy.

"That's the bloody point!" Draco shrieked, "You didn't know, and you found out because you're too nosy for your own good! That's the only reason you've ever been friendly to me, admit it! You felt bad for me!"

"Well, of course I did!" Ron fired back, as tears streamed furiously down Draco's cheek, "I _still_ feel bad for you! Merlin knows you don't have any friends to talk to about it, with Parkinson traveling so often, and I doubt you'd tell her anyways! I was trying to do the right thing by being nice to you, but don't think you get to make it out like everything I've done has been out of pity! You a _re_ my friend, Malfoy, regardless of what I did or didn't know when we started hanging out."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, his face still wet and shining, but he lost the chance when a mediwitch popped into the room, wand drawn, and asked, "Is there a problem in here?"

Everyone went silent and tight-lipped, and Draco finally croaked out, once he had scraped his palms over his face and rubbed out the tear marks, "No problem. We're fine, sorry for the noise."

"Hmph." The mediwitch snorted, not entirely convinced, then frowned and said, "Weren't you told you could leave ages ago?"

"Waiting on paperwork to be signed."Draco snapped, none too friendly.

"Right. I'm sure it's done by now. You're free to go, Mister Malfoy. You too, Misters Potter and Weasley." The woman nodded curtly, and turned on her heel, marching out of the room. Draco gave Ron a withering glare before following her out, barely sparing Harry a glance.

"You went through his file?" Hermione asked Ron in a horrified whisper. "Ron, you never should have touched it."

"You think I don't know that?" Ron groaned into his hands, "I shouldn't have gotten into it, I knew that as soon as I opened it, but I didn't plan on ever bringing it up! If it wasn't for the spell-or whatever it is that's been effecting me and Harry-I never would have said anything. I don't even remember what it was that I said to him. I just remember sitting to dinner, getting pissed about something, and then I was being thrown into the china cabinet."

"You need to apologize to him-properly." Hermione said sharply, then sighed and said, "But right now I think we need to go to the burrow and let everyone know whats going on. I'm sure Molly is worried out of her mind. You should rest, anyways."

Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that, and the trip back to the burrow was silent and melancholy. Albus wasn't interested in hearing a word from him, and Molly seemed too afraid of him to ask about what had happened, which was somehow worse. He apparated home with the kids without saying goodbye, and once he got there he locked himself in the upstairs office-which he rarely used-to draft a letter to Kingsley to request time off.

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 **Authors Note:** Any thoughts on this so far? Please review and let me know what you think! Also, since there is probably going to be sensitive subject matter discussed in this, would you guys prefer that I put trigger warnings on top of chapters that have that? I'd be more than happy to if people want that, but otherwise I'll keep doing things like I have been, just in the interest of not giving anything away. Please review and let me know!


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note:** Sorry I've taken so long to update, finals have been killing me lately. Okay, so I'm going to start putting warnings at the start of chapters if they apply, out of respect to anyone who is triggered by certain material. So, if there are any triggers you want me to warn about ahead of time, please let me know. I'l probably go back and add them to the start of my other chapters too, since I know there is some stuff there that not everybody is comfortable with. Also, I'm thinking of adding a sex scene that would be a fairly explicit, and I wanted to know if you would prefer I made that a seperate chapter that way if anyone is uncomfortable with it they can skip that part? Please continue to read, enjoy, and review!

-Pondering

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Harry didn't answer any of Hermione's floo calls for four days, and he ignored her owl every time it tapped its beak against the window. It circled the house insistently, and eventually Albus intercepted it from the kitchen, and brought the letter upstairs, sliding it under the gap of the door when he wasn't given entrance. He walked away down the hallway without a word, and Harry sat in miserable silence, staring at the letter in the floor and trying to decide whether it was worth getting up for. His back hurt from sitting in his wooden office chair for so long, and when he finally forced himself to his feet it was to creaking protests from his knees. He had never felt older.

He had been sleeping in the office, and only left to sneak into the bathroom or to fetch a quick meal from the pantry. Mostly, he was surviving on stale crackers and warm water from the tap. James had stopped trying to talk him out of the room by the second day, and had flooed with Lily to Ginny's, while Albus stayed behind, worried he would miss out on getting news about Scorpius. Harry could hear him running a load of laundry in the basement, and if the situation was any different he would have had a bubble of pride for his son that he had taken it upon himself to take over the household chores. He couldn't stop replaying the day at the burrow, though; Scorpius's pale mouth open in a silent scream, Draco's face wet with tears and humiliation, Ron's back slamming into Molly's china cabinet, his children looking at him with a fear that he knew he deserved. It was all too much, and he didn't want to feel anything ever again.

He picked up the letter, blinking sleep out of his eyes, and the remnants of a session of tears he hadn't been bothered to stop, and he popped the wax seal off of the envelopes front. He belatedly realized it wasn't from Hermione after all, but from Ron, who had simply written that he would be at Harry's house at five that afternoon to go through the files that were still stacked in the corner of Harry's bedroom. Harry didn't bother replying, and grudgingly forced himself out of the office. Albus ducked into his room when he saw Harry emerge, not bothering to greet him, and Harry was glad for it. He was afraid of what may come out of his mouth, even if he was sure he wasn't under the influence of anything anymore. He decided a warm shower would do him good, and when he got a look at the grease shining in his hair he couldn't argue it in the slightest.

He stayed standing still beneath the hot water for longer than he meant to, letting the warm spray chase the sweat and dirt off of his back. It was much nicer than he anticipated, and it did wonders to clear his head. He washed his hair twice, not because he needed to, but because he didn't quite want to get out of the water, and needed to do something to occupy his mind if he planned to stay. When he got out the water wasn't warm anymore and his skin was plagued with goosebumps as he stood in his bedroom examining his dresser for proper clothing. His skin was still damp when he pulled on jeans and a tee shirt, both of which stuck to his skin uncomfortably. He moved the case files from his bedroom and into the kitchen, taking three trips to get everything down there. When he came down for the last time Albus had emerged from his bedroom, and was sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through Harrys notes about the case, where he had detailed the effects of the curse he had believed he was under.

"You shouldn't be reading that." Harry said, and surprised himself with how tired his voice sounded. It was like he hadn't used it in ages.

Albus startled, and dropped the paper that was in his hands, looking up to meet Harrys eyes guiltily. Harrys stomach roiled at the fear that flickered through his sons eyes, but it was gone in an instant. Albus said quietly, "I just wanted to know what was happening to you and Uncle Ron. I tried to send a letter to Aunt Hermione, but she won't tell me anything. Mister Malfoy says I should ask you, but you weren't talking either."

"You sent a letter to Malfoy?"

"I wanted to see if Scorp was okay. He said he was fine, but a little tired."

"Oh. Thats...thats good. I'm glad he is doing okay."

"Yeah." Albus said, and watched Harry go to the pantry to get food for lunch. He picked up the paper he had been reading, and began scanning it again.

"Is this new?" Harry asked, frowning at a loaf of bread that he was sure hadn't been there the last time he had come down for a handful of crackers.

"Mister Malfoy sent a house elf over with it. I told him you weren't leaving your office, so he's been sending stuff for lunch. Did you know that he has a flower tattoo on his ankle? The house elf told me."

"No, I didn't know that." Harry said, glad that his son was trying to make conversation, but ashamed that Malfoy had needed to send his children food. He hadn't known he was so needed. "Ron is coming over at five, to go through the case stuff."

"Oh." Albus said, and set the paper down again, much more carefully than he had before. "Dad, whats going on?"

"That's a good question." Harry said, almost smiling at the irony. He had been wondering the exact same thing lately. "I don't really know, son."

"You didn't really curse Scorp, did you?"

"No." Harry said determinedly, and hearing it out loud cemented it again. He had been debating about it, with the revelation that a curse wasn't effecting him, but now that he had said it the certainty was back; he hadn't cursed Scorpius-well, not on his own, he hadn't.

"Your notes said that an auror killed her whole family from the same thing happening to her. You're not like that, are you? You don't want to kill me?"

"Never, Al." Harry said, astonished by the question, even though he was sure he should have expected it. "I wouldn't-I would never hurt you. Whatever this is, I'm fighting it. I won't let it get to you, or to your brother and sister."

"What is it, though? What's happening? You still haven't told me."

Albus deserved to know, Harry decided, and suddenly he was telling his son everything he knew about the case. He kept talking even as he made them both sandwiches, and he was honest even when he and his son both had tears lining their eyes. He and Al kept talking up until the doorbell rang, and Ron walked in to find them both sitting close at the kitchen table, half-crying over the stories of some of the victims of the curse. It was like opening a fresh wound, talking about the kids that had been killed by their own parents from the curse. Harry couldn't help putting himself into their situation, and his own grief bled over into Albus, who would gulp down a sob and reach across the table to grab his fathers shaking hand.

"Where are your other two?" Ron asked when he walked into the kitchen. He had grey bags beneath his eyes, and his clothes were rumpled like he had been sleeping in them. There was a crease from a pillow on his face, and Harry realized that he probably had been.

"They're with Ginny." Harry told Ron softly, recognizing the awkwardness in the air at his arrival. Albus quickly stood up and kissed his fathers cheek before he retreated upstairs, leaving the men to talk.

They were silent for a long moment, and Ron finally sighed, "Just say it, would you? I shouldn't have spied on him and gone through his private files."

"I don't have to say it." Harry sighed with difficulty, "You already know. What you did is between you and Draco, not you and me."

"Made any headway in the case, then?" Ron asked, clearing his throat and gesturing to the boxes that were stacked on the table.

"Not even slightly." Harry sighed, and gestured for Ron to take a seat. "Hermione got any theories?"

"None. She and Malfoy have been lettering each other for the past few days to see if maybe there was a way the spell was made undetectable, but spells aren't Malfoys area of expertise, and 'Mione is out of practice, even if she is a genius about that sort of thing."

"Fuck." Harry said, just because he could. He couldn't think of any better word to express the feelings of the situation.

"Fuck." Ron agreed, nodding sagely.

They poured over the files until nine, and their work was mostly silent, but no new information was unearthed, and Ron had to get back home to tuck the kids into bed; something he had been doing religiously since the incident at the burrow. He was clearly afraid to see something happening to his children if he was gone too long. Harry had the opposite fear, and though the day had gone relatively smoothly since he left the office, he still went to bed feeling nervous and agitated.

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He woke up at noon the next day, to a frantic knocking on his front door. Fear struck deep in his heart and he launched out of bed with his wand gripped tightly in his hand, practically running out of his room and down the hall to the front door, his heart beating explosively in his chest. The knocking continued, growing louder by the second. Harry opened the door poised to curse whoever was behind it, but the hex died in his throat when he saw Draco standing there, looking for all the world as if the world had just opened beneath his feet and swallowed him whole. His face was crumpled with heartbreak, and his shoulders shook with sobs. His knuckles were cut and bloody from pounding so hard on Harry's door.

"It's Scorpius." Draco sobbed, before Harry could say a word.

"The curse-"

"St. Mungo's asked us to come in again this morning. They-they ran a test by mistake the last time we were in and they-they found something."

"You're not making sense. Draco-"

"He's got what Astoria had. He's dying, Harry, my only kid is dying." Draco sobbed into Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't remember hugging him, but his knees burned and he realized they had both collapsed on the concrete in front of the door, and were holding each other like lifelines. Harry couldn't breathe, his lungs had fallen out from under his ribs so fast. Draco just continued to cry into him, repeating in agony, "My son, my son, my son."

They sat for what must have been hours, huddled in the doorway, before Harry had gotten Draco to his feet and led him up the stairs to the kitchen. He fixed them hot chocolate as Draco tried to control his breathing, and when the blond let him he wet a washcloth and dabbed it gently against the cuts on Draco's hand. Then, when he had stopped bleeding and they both had steaming mugs in front of them, Draco told him everything.

St. Mungo's had sent him a letter the day before, apparently, asking him to bring Scorpius back to discuss some test results. An intern had run a test on accident, and had uncovered something that they hadn't been looking for. Scorpius Malfoy was suffering from a lung disease; the same one that had claimed Astoria's life so many years before. They had given Scorpius a year and a half to live, and had admitted him to the hospital for a week to run more tests on his condition. Draco had been told he couldn't see his son until the testing was completed, and he had immediately appareted to Harry's. Suddenly, the case seemed like the least terrifying thing in the room, now that he knew the man he loved was going to lose his only son.

Draco looked at him with wide, glassy eyes, and asked brokenly, his chin wobbling, "What am I going to do, Harry? He's my only son. Why couldn't it have been me? What do I-What do I do, Harry?"

For what felt like the hundredth time that week, Harry didn't have the answer. All he knew was that everything just got much more complicated. He loved Malfoy, he loved Scorpius just as much, he hadn't told either of them that, and now one of them was dying, and the other wanted to.


	11. Chapter 11

Albus was a mess when Harry told him. He had stood up from the table and shouted, his face red with anger and wet with tears. He hadn't even let Harry explain it properly, he had only let him say that Scorpius would die before he had jolted to his feet, shouting, "You're lying! He's not dying, he's my best friend! You're lying!"

"I wish I was, Al, I really do. I know it's hard, but-"

"He was fine at the burrow! He was fine, he was completely normal! They made a mistake! St. Mungos doesn't know anything! They couldn't even find the spell that was hurting you and Uncle Ron! What do they know? We'll take him to a new doctor-a better doctor! They'll tell us he's fine!"

"It doesn't work like that, Albus." Harry said, willing himself to keep his own tears back. He had waited until Draco had apparated home to break the news to Albus, and he was glad for it. "They are doing what they can for him, but right now there isn't much. It's a genetic disorder, they've determined. His mother had it, and she passed it onto him without knowing it. I'm so sorry, Al-"

"No you're not!" Albus shouted back at him, and wiped his sleeve across his eyes to roughly scrape off the tears. They were quickly replaced. "You're not sorry, you don't even know him like I do! You don't know what this is like!"

"I do, Al. I know exactly what this is like, I-"

"You have no idea, don't pretend otherwise! You didn't lose your best friend! You've never felt this before!"

"I'm sorry!" was all Harry could think to say. He was right; Harry _didn't_ know what Albus was going through. Everyone he had lost had died in the war, or by Voldemorts hand. He had never been forced to stand by as one of his friends was given an expiration date.

"It's not fair!" Albus sobbed, his anger deflating. He looked at Harry as if he expected him to be able to do something; as if Harry somehow had the answer stowed in his back pocket.

"It's not." Harry agreed instead, his mouth dry and useless. He had always been his sons hero, and it stung that he couldn't save the day this time. He couldn't do _anything_. 

Albus swallowed, gave Harry one last heartbroken look, and took off for the stairs. His bedroom door slammed shut with an echo that Harry heard in the sitting room, and he immediately crumpled on the couch, burying his face into his hands and willing himself not to shout at the horribleness of it all. Scorpius was a kid, a kid that he knew fairly well, and that he cared for very much. It didn't make sense that he had been sick the entire time Harry had known him. It didn't make sense that nobody else had seen it before. It didn't make sense that Harry, who had always been known to fix things, couldn't fix the things that threatened to pick his world apart by the seams.

He had never felt more tired and useless in his life. He couldn't heal Scorpius. He couldn't fight off a measly spell-or whatever it was that had been used on him. He couldn't admit that he liked Draco. He couldn't do anything, it felt like.

He went with Draco to the hospital the next day. Since Scorpius would be in quarantine for the week, the blond had decided to pack him a bag with clothes and books and stuffed animals-he had ended up packing seven bags, and Harry had been forced to tell him that Scorpius would only be in the hospital a few more days, and couldn't possibly need all of that stuff. Draco had glared, with tears still glittering in his eyes from hours of crying, but he narrowed their load down to a two medium-sized bags.

He hadn't been allowed past the front desk when they got there, but a small nurse with purple shoes and white robes had agreed to take the bags to Scorpius, and had promised Draco that his son would be just fine for the next few days. Draco had sniffled, and asked her desperately, "You can tell him I came, right?"

"I'll tell him whatever you please, dear." She said sympathetically, and rested a kind hand on his elbow sympathetically.

"Okay. Tell him-tell him I love him, okay? But don't just say it, make sure he knows I mean it. Tell him I would hug him if I could, and I would take him flying, and I would help him bake cookies if he wanted and-just make sure he knows I miss him."

"Of course, dear." She said, and hesitated a moment before she said quietly, "Just remember this; he is looking at you for strength right now. I know its hard, but I need you to be strong for him."

"He is strong." Harry said, a bit more loudly than he intended to. "He's the strongest person I know, in fact."

"I don't doubt that." She smiled kindly, and turned to Draco again, telling him softly, "I helped to treat you as a teenager, after the war. You probably don't remember me, because I was so young back then, just training, but I do remember you. You were strong then, and you've only gotten stronger. I know what you're capable of, Mr. Malfoy, you've just got to find it in yourself to be the fighter you used to be."

Draco nodded, lost for words, and a moment later they were in the lift going down to the cafeteria. The silence was long and awkward, and the pain weighing both their chests made talking seem too difficult. They went to the cafeteria in silence, and Harry bought them breakfast without asking what Malfoy wanted. He had a feeling it didn't matter, because if Harry wasn't there Malfoy probably would have forgotten to eat anything at all.

"Any headway in the case?" Draco finally asked when they finished eating their eggs, which had gone cold with how long they took to finish them. It didn't matter; Harry couldn't taste them anyways. Draco's voice was soft and shaky, but Harry didn't say anything about it. He knew what the blond was really asking for; a distraction.

"None." Harry told him, just as quietly. "Ron and I looked over everything just the other day, but nothings come of it. The healers think we imagined it, or its some effect from being an auror so long."

"You wouldn't cast that curse on your own." Draco said, determination in his set jaw, "And I'm almost certain you wouldn't have been such a prick if there wasn't something seriously wrong."

"The hallway." Harry remembered, paling. He had forgotten about it completely with all that had happened sense then. "I made you cry."

Draco flushed, and took a deliberately long sip of his coffee to avoid responding.

"Merlin, what did I even say to you?" Harry asked, groaning. He could remember exactly how devastated Draco had looked as he stood there, frozen with shock and heartbreak.

"You don't remember?"

"I blacked out, whatever it was that I said, I was too muddled up to hear it." Harry said, then added, because he thought it was necessary, "I really am sorry about it, whatever it was. I'm sure I didn't mean it. What...what did I say to you, exactly?"

"You don't want to know."

"No, I really do."Harry said, "Please, it will kill me if I don't find out."

He realized belatedly that maybe he shouldn't mention death, considering Scorpius's condition, but Draco seemed not to notice the slip.

"It was about my mom, I think. Said she'd be disappointed if she could see me now; gay and raising her only heir to be a Hufflepuff. I think you called me naive and foolish, too, and told me that I was just as pathetic as you'd always said when we were growing up."

"You're leaving something out." Harry accused, noticing that Draco hadn't once looked at him during the explanation. He was rewarded with a dark pink color sneaking up the blonds cheeks, and he knew he was right.

"You, uh, used some choice phrases about my sexuality, told me that my father would be disgusted, which isn't far from the truth, of course." He said slowly, then seemed to swallow, and his eyes met Harrys with a dark determination, as he said, a bit more strongly, "You said that I was pathetic to be falling for Harry Potter when he would never love me back. Said that you and Weasley laughed about it behind my back that I had such a big crush on you."

"You're falling for me?" Harry asked, nearly knocking his coffee over on the table they were sat at. Draco's face darkened six shades. Harry felt a smile slip onto his face, which he knew didn't belong there given the reason he was at the hospital in the first place, but it crept up his cheeks anyways and he asked, "You've got a crush on me?"

Draco glared, and said stubbornly, so red he had started to turn the color of Ron's hair, "You've got egg in your teeth."

"You've got a crush on me." Harry repeated, and ran his tongue over his teeth to work the egg out. Once it was gone, he smiled again, his chest buzzing softly. "Does anybody else know?"

"Scorpius told Ron, and he made me talk to him about it a few days before the burrow. I didn't even know Scorp realized it. I was, uh, going to ask you out at the burrow, actually. It probably would have gone better if you weren't under that spell."

"Yeah, I'd say it would have gone a _lot_ better." Harry said, annoyed with himself for ruining things, even if he hadn't really been at fault. Then, another thought hit him and he asked, his heart warming, "You talked to Ron about me?"

Draco took another long sip of his coffee. Harry chuckled, momentarily forgetting about Scorpius and his condition, and teased, "That's cute, Malfoy. Did he braid your hair while you told him all about how good I look in my auror uniform?"

"Vanity doesn't look good on you, Potter." Draco snapped, "And if you're just going to make fun of me you can take me home."

"Can't you apparate?" Harry frowned, which was probably not what Malfoy wanted him to say, as he appeared distinctly upset again.

"My magic has been uncooperative lately. It's why I asked you to come with me today. Well, also because i didn't want to come by myself, but mostly because I've been so upset my magic is sort of pissed off at me. It gets like that when I'm depressed; it stops doing what I want it to, and kind of gets wonky."

"Oh." Harry said, swallowing hard. He hadn't meant to bring up Scorpius again. He had been doing so well at keeping Draco distracted. They were both quiet for a moment longer, and Harry couldn't fish out anything new to say, so he sighed and asked, "Why don't I take you home? The apparition point is just down a floor and past the check-in desk."

Draco nodded stiffly, probably out of tears to cry, and they made it to the apparition point in silence that was almost comfortable. Harry cleared his throat, and apparated them into Malfoy Manor with a crack. He and Draco stood staring at one another for a long time, not saying anything, and then Harrys mouth worked on its own to whisper, "If you had asked me out at the burrow when I was normal, I would have answered differently, you know."

"Oh?" Malfoy asked, his eyes dark and locked on Harry's mouth. Harry hadn't ever noticed that Draco was slightly taller than him, and it surprised him that the fact turned him on. "What would you have said?"

"I wouldn't have needed words." Harry told him, so caught up in Malfoy's grey eyes, soft and dark and lustful, that he didn't notice it when his knees lost feeling.

"Why not?"

"I would have been far too busy snogging you to say anything." Harry said, breathless, and his mouth was pressed firmly against Draco's in an instant. Draco's hair was soft and smooth beneath his right hand and Harry kept kissing him even when he pressed a little too hard and accidentally rammed his nose into Draco's cheek. He didn't think he could stop if he wanted to. It wasn't even the kiss that had him feeling so ethereal; it was Draco himself, with his soft hair, his hard eyes, and his warm chest and arms.

It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't at all how Harry imagined he would kiss Draco for the first time, but it was enough. He tasted like coffee and cheap hospital eggs, but it was enough because his mouth was warm and alive and his. Draco gasped when they broke apart, and said with a shudder, "Fuck, Potter."

"If you ask me kindly." Harry said automatically. He realized belatedly that he meant it; he would gladly go to bed with Draco if he was wanted there.

He was. Draco's hands came back from around Harry's shoulders, and thin fingers shook as they worked the buttons open at Harry's collar. He had never seen Draco look so conflicted, as if he knew what he wanted, but was scared to put his heart into it. Harrys hands moved on their own, closing over Dracos, and he held them in front of him as his breathing slowed. He needed to be able to think properly. Draco couldn't; there was too much going on; too much pain, too much want, too much of everything. Harry had to make the decision of whether they would go through with this or not.

Harry steadied himself, and looked at Draco carefully, trying to read his eyes. They were wet with tears, and wide with need, and it did nothing to put Harry at ease when Draco's mouth shivered on a stifled sob. Harry asked him slowly, meaningfully, "Is this what you want? You're not taking me to bed because you need a distraction, are you? You really want this?"

"I want you." Draco said, his voice wobbling dangerously. It was true, and Harry could read that in his face, but it still wasn't genuine. He was hurting too much; he was asking Harry to make him feel better for a moment that he might come to regret if he was given the chance. His son was going to die, and he was distraught, and Harry couldn't sleep with him without taking advantage of that.

"I can't." Harry said, and it was the most difficult thing he had said yet. He _could_ , if he wanted to-and he _did_ want to. _Draco_ wanted to. But it wouldn't be fair; not to either of them. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, I can't."

"It's Draco when you're about to fuck me." Malfoy breathed hard, and Harry nearly came undone right there.

"Draco." Harry said softly, his head clearing once he found his words, "I'm not having sex with you today. I have Albus waiting for me at home, and we haven't talked properly about this at all. I'll come by tomorrow, and we can talk then, but you are way too upset right now. I don't want to make any mistakes."

"I'm not a mistake. I _won't_ be." Draco said, practically begging with his eyes, wide and hurt. Harry knew he understood, though, deep down.

"Prove it." Harry swallowed, and snuck his hand back around to grip his wand, images of his kitchen in his head as he steadied himself. "Wait until you're ready. We can talk tomorrow. Goodbye, Malfoy."

Harry kissed his cheek, very quickly, and pulled back before he could get caught up again, then apparated into his kitchen with a pop. He almost kicked himself when the room stopped spinning. He had just rejected the man he was falling for, right after he found out his only son was dying. He nearly screamed in frustration. _Why did he always have to do the right thing?_

Albus was sitting on the couch when he went to find him, still in his pajamas, and he lit up when he spotted Harry in the doorway, saying, "I got a letter from Scorpius from the hospital! He's going to be released in a few days! Maybe he isn't that sick after all, dad. I mean, they're letting him go home, aren't they?"

"Maybe." Harry said, offering a weak smile. He had way too much on his mind. He didn't feel like breaking Albus's heart again. He went upstairs for a nap.

When he went down for dinner, Albus had another letter, and was grinning at Harry when he sat down. Harry frowned at him, and asked, "What is it?"

"You kissed Mr. Malfoy, didn't you?"

"What?" Harry spluttered, his face going hot and his hands feeling clammy with sweat, "Did _Draco_ send you a letter? What the hell did he say?"

"No, Draco sent _Scorpius_ a letter. And then Scorpius sent it to me as proof."

"What did he say?"Harry demanded, horrified but also touched that Draco had immediately told his son what had happened between them. Well, he hoped he hadn't told him e _verything,_ but __he had faith that Draco wasn't that open about his trysts with his son.

"Nothing." Albus smirked, and folded the letter carefully, "Just that you finally kissed him, and that you were a perfect gentleman, and even bought him breakfast. You're going to see him tomorrow, right? Scorpius says that he thinks it helps when he's with you. He talks about you a lot. Did you notice his shirt?"

"His shirt?"

"He wore the blue one that Uncle Ron and I picked out. It makes his eyes look stand out, and Aunt Hermione said that you didn't stop looking at him for ages the last time he wore it."

"Have you lot been giving Draco tips on dating me this whole time?" Harry gaped, amused and completely embarrassed that he hadn't realized it sooner. His own son was involved and he hadn't batted an eye. Merlin, if he hadn't been cursed, things would be a lot easier right about then.

"He's been crushing on you since that first Quidditch game." Albus snorted, with a roll of his eyes, and then went upstairs with the letter in hand, refusing to say another word on the subject. Harry was annoyed and flattered in equal measure.


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note:** Sorry to update so late! Had a surprise surgery that took me out for a couple weeks. Reviews are appreciated, I'll try to update soon! (Also, this chapter was fueled by pain meds so I probably won't even remember writing it later)

The next morning it rained, dark clouds swelling up over the street ominously. Harry had a pounding headache from the weather, and was hyperaware of the fact that he had kissed Malfoy the day before. It felt like ages since it had happened, and he couldn't help wondering if he had offended the blond by leaving so quickly. He wondered if it was raining over Malfoy Manor, and whether Draco was keeping himself warm in the frigidness of his home.

Hermione and Ron flooed into his house during breakfast, and if Harry had been any less miserable he would have hexed them on the spot for the intrusion. As it was, he felt unusually groggy and his reflexes were far from their peak form. Albus didn't even look up from his cereal, as if he had expected them to tumble through the fireplace. He always seemed to know more than Harry these days.

"I talked to Draco." Ron said, after ten minutes of them standing in silence in Harrys doorway. Harry immediately looked up at them, and noticed that both their eyes were framed in red, as if they had spent the morning crying. "He, uhm, he told us about Scorpius."

They didn't need to say more. Harry swallowed his mouthful of toast, which began to feel dry at the reminder of the boy, and he asked as casually as he could manage, "How did he seem?"

"He's a mess, Harry." Hermione said, and finally stepped into the room to drop herself heavily into the chair beside him. Ron continued to stand, looking as if he felt incredibly out of place. "Why didn't you mention anything to us? We went to pick up those calming potions the healers recommended for Ron, and we saw Malfoy in the cafeteria by himself. We went to join him, and he told us why he was there."

"Oh." Harry said, struggling to imagine how that conversation had gone.

"Mate, he's not doing well." Ron said with difficulty, "They won't let him see Scorp for another five days and I don't think its wise for him to be by himself."

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked with a frown.

"I'm not saying that he can't be alone, I just think we should check up on him more often. His magic is acting up from the stress and he needs somebody around that can help him get through it."

"Dad is seeing him tonight." Albus supplied helpfully, startling Harry. He had forgotten his son was still in the room with them.

"Are you?" Hermione asked, frowning. "He's talking to you now, then?"

It was as if she knew he felt guilty for kissing Malfoy. Harry settled for nodding, avoiding the sharpness in her gaze. He figured he wouldn't need to mention the part where they had nearly fucked, but the idea was gone when Albus spoke up again.

"Course they are. It's a little difficult to snog somebody if you don't even want to talk to them, isn't it?"

Harry pretended he didn't feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he said quickly, before anybody could say anything to scold him, "Al, why don't you go upstairs to your room for a bit so I can talk to Ron and Hermione privately?"

"I'm not finished with breakfast yet." Albus frowned.

"You can take it to your room and eat it." Ron said, before Harry could respond. It wasn't what Harry would have suggested at all, but he was grateful to see Albus disappearing up the stairs without a fight for once. Hermione was glaring daggers at him once his son was gone. Ron looked impressed, and took the seat Albus had vacated with a smirk.

"Kissed him, did you?" He asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Rose owes me five galleons when we get home."

"That's not funny, Ron." Hermione admonished, and turned sharply back to Harry, saying furiously, "Do you have any idea how unfair that is? His son is dying, He is an emotional mess, and he can't make decisions properly right now."

"Well, he didn't seem to hate it _too_ much." Harry frowned at her. He had known that sex would be wrong with the state they were in, but a bit of kissing had seemed almost harmless, if only to distract them from Scorpius's condition.

"Harry, it's not the right time for you two to do this. He wants a distraction; he wants something to numb the pain, and right now that's you."

"But-"

"Listen to me, will you? It's not smart. He's in pain and you're in pain, and its not fair for either of you to use that as a catalyst for this relationship to work. He needs to grieve his son, and you need to be there for him...but not in the way you want to be. You haven't worked out any of your issues, and if you two can't learn to cope your relationship will be doomed to fail."

"You think that he only wants me because he's upset." Harry accused, although he knew she had a point, "You think I'm manipulating him."

"No, I think you're both in a very dark place right now, and I don't think either of you are ready for this relationship."

"She's right, mate." Ron said after a long moment looking between the two of them. "Malfoy needs to be able to focus on his son, and we need to focus on finding out what happened to us. If whatever it was hits us again, Malfoy and his son could get hurt again."

Harry winced, assaulted by the image of Scorpius Malfoy lying on the floor of the burrow, pain in his eyes as his body spasmed from Harry's spell. Hermione was right. He couldn't afford to try and date Draco when he didn't know how safe it was for him to be around.

"Exactly." Hermione said with a hard nod. "We need to talk about work, too. I took a week of vacation time to help you both to figure this out. Kingsley doesn't know what happened."

"And we're not going to tell him." Harry nodded, and pushed down the image of Scorpius forcefully. "Nobody else knows that the old woman they arrested is innocent. If that information gets out, the real suspect will know we are still searching for them. Right now, we've got the upper hand. We know it has to be somebody in the ministry who caused all this, and even letting Kingsley know could risk tipping off the suspect."

"For all we know, Kingsley could be under the spell too." Ron added, paling at the thought. "He could have been under it the whole time."

"I've been thinking about that too." Hermione said, and swept her hair back into a ponytail, immediately signaling that they were in for a day full of hard work. She _always_ put her hair up when she got serious.

XXXXX

They did work hard, for almost three hours, before Harrys mind began to wander away from their task and toward Draco. What was he doing all alone at the manor? Was he angry at Harry for not staying the night? Was he regretting their kiss? Harry hoped he wasn't. It hadn't been a very nice kiss-it was one of Harry's worse attempts, if he was being honest with himself-but it had felt right somehow, as if it was still good beneath the clacking teeth and hard angles and awkward positioning.

"If you're just going to sit there thinking about Malfoy the whole time, we may as well just pack up and bring everything to the manor." Hermione finally snapped, the third time Harry's eyes went hazy and out of focus. He didn't need to look at her to know she was glaring at him.

"Well, he could probably help us out in finding whatever little details we're missing." Ron said thoughtfully, "He was always good at stuff like that, wasn't he?"

Harry tried not to grin as Hermione frustratedly shoved their notes back into the case files. They were searching criminal records, looking for anyone with a history involving dark magic, and had come up with six suspects for the case. They were unlikely suspects, of course, but being able to put some names down onto paper had made it feel as if they were making progress, so Harry didn't complain.

Malfoy left his floo open, Harry was glad to discover. He had privately been worried when they had first stepped into the fireplace, thinking that perhaps Malfoy had been so upset over the night before that he had barred Harry entrance into his house. That would have _really_ set Hermione off on him.

"Draco!" She called as they stumbled out onto a grey rug in Malfoy's office. He wasn't in there, and Harry wasn't sure if he was glad for it or not. They waited in silence for several seconds, but got no response.

"Malfoy, we brought your boyfriend to see you!" Ron shouted, his voice lifting at the end teasingly. Harry could feel hiss entire body heating up, and he elbowed Ron as hard as he could in the ribs, making him cough and double over in surprise. "Ow! I was only joking! Merlins balls, you've got pointy elbows, Harry."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and shouted over them as she led them into the hall, "Malfoy! It's Hermione, we brought some case files for you to look over! We think you could help us out!"

The only sound was the loud ticking of a grandfather clock at the other end of the hall, and Harry struggling to balance the three boxes of files that Hermione had handed off to him without a warning.

"Malfoy?" She called nervously, her eyebrows drawing together in worry. There was still nothing. "It's odd, isn't it? He said he was coming straight home when we saw him at the hospital."

"That was three hours ago." Ron reminded her gently, and Harry set the boxes down with a grunt, nearly losing his balance on his untied shoelace.

"Maybe we should split up and look for him; see if he's asleep." Harry suggested. "Or else he isn't here and we should just set up our stuff in his dining room and wait for him to get back."

"Yeah, because the thing he needs now is a heart attack, isn't it?" Ron snorted, "You can't just sit around in his house and hope for the best, he'll piss himself if he comes home to us just sitting there."

"And bursting through his floo unannounced was a better idea, how?" Harry asked, raising a single eyebrow in the way he had seen Malfoy do it a hundred times. He felt both go up after a moment. Well, Malfoy probably practiced at it, it wasn't Harry's fault he couldn't do it.

"Shut up, the both of you. I'm sure Malfoy's here, we'll just separate and go to find him. I'll go out to the garden and look around for him, Ron can check the kitchen and the front rooms, and Harry, you can take the back of the house and his bedroom."

"I'm not sure I'm allowed in there yet." Harry frowned, wondering what Malfoy would say if he knew Harry had been in his private space while he wasn't around. Worse, what if he was there? What would he do if Harry burst in unannounced and uninvited?

"Yet?" Ron smirked, "Sounds to me like you plan on being allowed there very soon."

"Oh, Ronald, please." Hermione groaned, "Will you just go down the hall already? You're acting like a teenager, and there is a man missing."

"Alright, alright." Ron said, raising his hands in surrender as he set off down the hallway, calling Malfoy's name every few steps. Hermione gave Harry a strange look before she followed his lead and Harry was left standing awkwardly, not quite sure where to go first.

He decided to check the bedroom last-or, he would have, if he had known where Malfoy's bedroom was to begin with. It ended up being the second room he went into, knocking loudly before slipping in through the door. He could immediately tell Malfoy wasn't in there, and he was sure he should have left, but a photo on Draco's bedside table caught his eye, and he ended up shutting the door behind him and approaching the picture with a fond smile and an odd flutter in his chest.

It was a picture of Draco and Scorpius, back when the latter was barely old enough to walk. Draco looked much younger then, he had thicker hair and brighter eyes and a much wider smile than Harry ever remembered seeing on him. There was a photo of his wedding day on the back corner of the nightstand, and Harry nearly laughed aloud. Draco was in a tuxedo that was ripped and covered in grass stains, and Astoria was beside him in a dress that had probably started out white and beautiful, but was instead stained with mud and grass. They were both on broomsticks, laughing at one another, clearly the best of friends. Harry felt his heart constrict. How was it fair that Draco had lost his best friend, and was going to have his son taken from him as well? How was it right that his bedside table would be full of pictures of dead people? His parents, his wife, Crabbe, and soon his son? Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, and was silently thankful that he had his kids, and Ginny. The divorce had started messy, but he supposed he turned out lucky in the end, all of his friends and family still intact. And what was more, he could still call Ginny a friend. Why couldn't Malfoy have that? Hadn't the war taken enough from everybody? Why was Draco still paying for it?

He turned away from the table with a sharp breath. He hadn't expected to feel so wronged by an innocent set of photos. He felt worse when he turned. He hadn't realized it when he first came in, but Malfoy had kept his room decorated as if Astoria was still alive. Her side of the bed was made, her bedside table still had her jewelry and half-empty bottles of perfume. A rack of her shoes was still against the far wall, next to her dresser, topped with moving pictures of her and her friends, back when days were brighter and people were happier.

There was a door tucked into the back of the room that light shone from under, and Harry focussed on it to avoid thinking about the sentimental part of Malfoy; the part that had left his wife's things untouched, as if he expected her to return any day, like she hadn't died years ago. Maybe Hermione was right; he was moving too fast, and their relationship-or whatever it was he and Draco had-was nothing but a bid to feel okay for once.

He pushed the thought away. He was sure in his feeling for Draco, he knew he was. Then he realized he was still looking at the light shining beneath the door and it didn't make sense for a light to be shining if Draco wasn't in there. He held his breath and walked to the door, knocking as softly as he could, praying that the blond had just been forgetful and left the lights on by mistake. He wasn't sure he could explain why he was searching Draco's room in a way that wouldn't sound creepy. Luckily, there was no answer. Unluckily, Harry tried the door anyways and opened it to find Draco Malfoy sitting in his bathtub, submerged up to his neck in bubbles, his mouth open and his face slack with sleep.

"You fucker." Harry cursed at himself, his face and groin rapidly heating. It was just his luck to find Draco naked and asleep the day after he had denied him sex and given him a mediocre kiss. He wanted to leave; he really wanted to find Hermione and tell her they had come at a bad time-but another (more sadistic) part of him wanted to wake Draco up just to see how he would react to seeing Harry there. Would he be glad to see him? Would he be horrified? Would he find it terribly arousing and demand Harry take him to bed immediately?

One of Draco's hands was sticking out from the bubble mountain, and Harry noticed with a swell of affection that the pads of his long fingers had gone soft and prune-like. The water probably wasn't even warm anymore, and Harry was tempted to slip in beside Draco to see if his assumption was correct, but he immediately felt like a pervert for thinking that, and wondered what kind of weirdo he must be to be standing unwelcome in a bathroom fantasizing about a man who was unconscious in a bathtub and completely unaware of his presence.

Before he could guilt himself into leaving, a crack came from behind him, and a soft, high voice said happily, "Master Draco, Lizzy has fetched your strawberry custard from Florean's, sir. There be a long line, sir, but Lizzy waits for her master. Lizzy is-Oh!"

"No! Don't yell!" Harry hissed, horrified, as Malfoy stirred in the tub, water sloshing as he turned towards Harry blearily. It was too late, Lizzy let out a shriek that had Malfoy's grey eyes flying open, and he sat up straight in the bath, slipping briefly beneath the water and coming back up choking and spluttering.

"Master Draco is indecent Mister Harry Potter! Harry Potter is to wait in the foyer!"

"It's fine!" Malfoy shouted over her, blinking water out of his eyes and hugging the bubbles closer to himself (Not that Harry could see anything anyways) and blushing like mad. "It's fine, just give us a moment!"

"If master is sure..." Lizzy said slowly, narrowing her eyes at Harry and setting the tub of custard on the counter cautiously. It seemed like forever before she backed out of the room, sending Harry suspicious glances the entire way out.

Harry didn't know what to say, now that he was completely unaroused and horribly embarrassed to have been caught, so he settled for staring at the custard container and blurted uselessly, "Did you send your house elf for ice cream so you could eat it in the bathtub?"

"That's not any of your business." Malfoy answered, and his face flushed darker. There were already two empty containers on the floor by the tub that Harry hadn't noticed before.

"I can't believe you decided to go for a third. Aren't you going to make yourself sick?"

"No." Malfoy said quickly, just beginning to relax, though the color in his cheeks was still there and didn't look to be fading in the least. They were silent for a moment, just staring at one another, and Harry had the strange urge to laugh at their ridiculous situation, but had a feeling Draco wouldn't appreciate it if he did.

"I didn't mean to walk in on you. Hermione and Ron thought you could help us with our case, and when we couldn't find you we got worried."

"Well, uh, I'm just in here." Malfoy said, clearing his throat awkwardly and raising his chin to claim defiantly, "Taking a bubble bath and eating my feelings. Like a real man does."

"I'll just tell them I found you, then. You know; give you some time to get dressed and think of an excuse. I don't think you want them knowing the state you were in, exactly." Harry said, swallowing hard and feeling extremely glad that Malfoy had accepted his excuse without question.

"Yeah, because then you'd have to explain how you stood around watching me sleep in the bloody bath like a weirdo." Malfoy said with a smirk, and Harry smiled sheepishly back at him.

"I wasn't _watching,_ I was trying to decide whether to wake you up or pretend you weren't home. Lucky Ron wasn't the one to find you."

"True," Draco agreed, frowning thoughtfully, "I can't imagine what he would do. Faint, do you think?"

"Yeah, that sounds reasonable from him. He'd probably be so terrified at what you'd do to him that he'd just keel over immediately." Harry said, then realized he'd been standing in the bathroom too long and said, stepping out, "I'll, uh, I'll make your excuses. We can say you took a nap with a silencing charm up and didn't hear us."

"Right." Draco nodded, and Harry closed the door quickly.

He was nearly out of Draco's bedroom completely when he heard a muffled shout of, "Wait! Potter!"

"Yeah?" Harry asked nervously, hoping Draco didn't ask him how long he had been standing in the bathroom while he slept.

"Give me twenty minutes to finish the custard before you tell them you found me!" Draco shouted back at him, and this time Harry did laugh, loudly.

"Are you serious, Malfoy?"

Draco replied, sniggering himself, "Fuck you, I waited half an hour for this custard and I'm bloody eating it!"

Maybe they weren't on such bad terms after all, then. Harry had a good feeling about the day. Maybe they would crack the case after all.


End file.
